


Toward The Rising Sun

by cadesama



Series: Heals All Wounds [4]
Category: Avatar: Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-07
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadesama/pseuds/cadesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko and Aang need to learn to trust each other. Cue the road trip to find the Sun Warriors, with plenty of arguing, dirty jokes, and pirates besides. S3 AU. [Heals All Wounds #4]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The engine clanked noisily as its gears and pistons churned, speeding the small Fire Navy ship through the waters between the eastern peninsula of the Earth Kingdom and the outer reaches of the Fire Nation. It was comforting, in a way, to be back aboard a Fire Nation ship. Certainly, in Zuko's opinion, Hakoda's stolen ship was both a step up from Bei Hu's ship – and the concussion that had brought him there – and from traveling on Appa's back. The thick metal walls quivered with the incessant banging of a ship in motion, and loud footsteps from the hall vibrated along the floor. Chatter from the Water Tribe men echoed in the hall, but if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine that it was _his_ ship.

He had better reason to close his eyes right now, though.

Zuko's breath hitched in his chest as Katara pressed closer, her hand leaving his neck to skate down his chest over his shirt. Her hand was a cool contrast to the thrum and heat of the floor plates they sat on, barely separated from the metal by thin, Fire Nation style _tatami_. Her legs hooked over his, bent at the knee, as they leaned against the metal wall. His arm curved around her waist, and she drew back, finally, to rest her head on his shoulder.

His fingers carded through her unbound hair, listening to her heartbeat as they sat together in his shared room. It was strewn with evidence of Zuko's erstwhile roommates. Aang's staff stood in one corner, while Sokka's boomerang hung from a hook on the opposite wall. Between the two of them, the boys had somehow accumulated enough junk to turn their side of the room into a typically teenage mess – scrolls from the Spirit Library and maps drawn onto old ship's logs littered the floor, as well as an increasingly large lump of Water Tribe clothes as the boys stripped more and more away to try to cool down in the baking heat of the ship.

There was a sleeve deposited ignominiously on the floor. The other had found its way into Aang's collection of sock puppets that he tried to entertain the ship with. Spirits, that kid was worse than Uncle…

Zuko's own side of the room was bare and tidy, but for a pair of candles scrounged from the mess for meditation. He'd packed his Water Tribe clothes away, happy to be free of the stifling, heavy fabric, but certain that they would be worth keeping for the future. Disguises were always a good thing to have on hand. He'd changed into a Fire Nation midshipman's uniform, found in the hold and adjusted to his slighter frame as much as it could be. The shoulders were almost right, but it was too wide in the waist and too long both at the hem and in the sleeves. His pants need to be cuffed up and tied as tightly as possible to keep them from slipping down, but despite all that it was a relief and a comfort to once again wear Fire Nation clothes.

Even if they were beneath his station.

In reality, he was only mildly irritated with the room situation. Sharing with Aang and Sokka while the rest of the Water Tribe men overtook the scant crew quarters or slung their hammocks from the beams of the hold wasn't really so bad. It was hardly even a step down from his old ship, where he'd slept on a reed mat in a private but empty room.

"This is nice," Katara murmured, eyes slipping shut in contentment.

"Be nicer if I had my own room," he grumbled back.

"Shush up, Zuko!" Katara said. She looked up, widening her eyes comically as she looked frantically toward the door. "You'll summon them. _Again_."

Zuko pulled a face. Aang, Sokka, and Toph's joint hobby of interrupting them – or worse, sidling in silently only to give color commentary – was not something he intended to let them get away with. He would have his revenge.

But… later. Right now, they were above deck, finishing loading up the steamer he and Aang would be taking on their trip. And while normally Zuko would be ready and willing to do his share of the work, he was busy taking this last opportunity to kiss his girlfriend without brothers, Avatars, or crafty, shameless earthbenders razzing him for it.

He put one finger under Katara's chin, nudging her back toward him. Her eyes lingered suspiciously on the door. Narrowing his eyes at her, Zuko kissed at the hinge of her jaw and smirked proudly to himself at her gasp. She jerked back, looking up at him with heat.

"Stop that," she said playfully.

"No."

He dragged his mouth down her neck, kissing softly as his fingers splayed out, gripping her unscarred side lightly. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and Zuko took the opportunity to bite at her collarbone, enjoying the shuddering, low sound she made.

"This mission is stupid," he said into her neck. "My firebending is fine."

Katara stiffened under his hands, pushing him away just enough to meet his eyes.

"No, it's not. You can't bend when you're happy, which is _ridiculous_ by the way, and that's not what you're going to teach Aang. You need to go back to the source."

Zuko resisted the urge to cross his arms and glare her down. In the past two weeks aboard Hakoda's stolen Fire Nation ship, he had learned there were _much_ better ways to persuade her. Leaning forward, he nipped at the frown on her lips.

"Come with us," he insisted. "Don't you want to make sure I don't keelhaul Aang?"

"Oh, come on. He hasn't been that annoying!"

Aang absolutely had been that annoying. Since getting over his jealousy issues, he'd been _friendly_. It was intolerable.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Katara sighed, nudging him with her shoulder as she cajoled, "Besides, you two need to learn to trust each other."

Her words settled oddly on him. He trusted Aang – he wouldn't even _be_ here if he didn't – but he couldn't say the same for Aang. Sure, the Avatar had saved his life, both in Ba Sing Se and by rescuing him from Bei Hu in the Northern City, but Aang would rescue a rat-viper if it looked helpless enough, even if it _did_ bite him back later. And despite Aang's cuddly nature, he could be damnably hard to read at times. They'd had opportunity and time, but they hadn't even begun their firebending lessons yet.

There really was only one explanation. Aang didn't trust him.

"Zuko. Stop," Katara commanded. She leaned into him, brushing his fingers across his brow to smooth away the furrow. He couldn't restrain a shiver at the feeling – he never could when she touched him on the face, so close to where he had been scarred.

"You know," Toph's voice called out brashly from the doorway. Her smile was wide and taunting beneath the hood of her oversized cloak. "You might want to cut it out with words like that. People might get the wrong impression."

"Toph! How could you say something like that?" Katara asked. She sprang up, scandalized expression on her face as she hurried over to wag her finger at the younger girl. Toph shrugged, her smile turning smug.

"I don't know… just seems like between all of the 'Zuko! _Stop_!'" she imitated Katara, voice going breathy and high, before pitching her tone lower. "And the 'No, don't struggle', it sounds like something _awfully_ dishonorable is going on down here."

Zuko drew himself up from the floor to glare at her, refusing to recognize that rasp as his own.

"I have _never_ said that," he snapped.

"Eh. I guess my memory's going. Hope that's not what I tell Chief Hakoda."

"You _wouldn't_!" Katara gasped, making a grab for her.

Toph just laughed, darting up the stairs, and Katara ran after her. With a steadiness borne of leashed fury – Dishonorable? How dare she! – Zuko followed. He grabbed the frame of the door, using his leverage to swing quickly around the tight corner and run down the hall. The door to the stairs was already open, with the girls quickly approaching it. Zuko's steps rang loudly on the metal deck plates as he dashed past them, taking the stairs two at a time. He turned as he reached the top, intending the block Toph's way, but a hand fell heavily on his shoulder, making him look up in surprise.

Chief Hakoda.

"Um. Hi," he said weakly.

Hakoda raised an eyebrow at him, replying with bemusement, "Hi."

The older man seemed just on the verge of asking precisely why Zuko had been blocking the stairs when Toph burst out from below decks, one arm dragging Katara who tried fiercely to pull her back below decks. Toph dug her toes in the metal, bending it to give herself traction as she grinned up at Hakoda.

"Told you I'd be able to get their butts up here," she crowed.

"Why you little brat!" Katara shouted. She pulled on Toph, expression malevolent as she leaned backwards. Zuko's eyes widened in alarm – she looked intent of tumbling them both back below decks, happy to take the fall as long as Toph went with her.

He sprang forward to separate them and from behind him, Hakoda spoke with resounding, fatherly authority, "Katara, that is enough!"

Katara dropped Toph's arm, wheeling her arms as she fought for balance. Zuko reached out quickly, grabbing onto her, and she gave him a relieved smile. Toph stomped over to Hakoda's side to grin back at them, unruffled and unrepentant. Ever since they'd arrived, she'd taken partiality to the Chief of the Southern Tribe. According to her, Hakoda was awesome because he'd _actually_ stolen a Fire Nation ship, unlike her loser friends who'd wussed out at the last minute.

"Would anyone care to explain what is going on here?" Hakoda asked, arms crossed.

Zuko shifted awkwardly, avoiding the other man's gaze, while Katara seemed to set her jaw.

"No," she snapped. Zuko looked at her in surprise. She stalked forward and shouldered unnecessarily past her father. Casting a haughty look back, she added, "It's nothing that concerns _you_."

Hakoda watched her go, rubbing at his jaw sadly.

"She didn't mean that," Toph said. She reached up, patting at Hakoda's hand, and he gave a fond if wholly unpersuaded look down at her.

Zuko just watched them warily. He couldn't imagine talking to his father this way – neither as rudely as Katara nor as familiarly as Toph. And he absolutely could not imagine offering comfort. It was just _weird_.

"So," Hakoda started. Zuko's attention snapped to the man, and he instinctively straightened his back, hackles raised. "You about ready to go?"

"Of course," Zuko replied stiffly.

He stepped sideways to get around the man, inclining his head marginally in a show of respect, before escaping to the stern where Sokka, dressed in ill fitting Fire Nation armor, was throwing packages over the side. Standing on a small steamboat below, Aang caught it easily, cushioning it on a swirl of wind before settling it on the deck. It looked like they were almost finished. The tiny boat was so stacked full of provisions it was resting low in the water.

Zuko frowned.

"How long are you expecting us to be gone?" he asked.

"Eh, I dunno. Figured it might take a while for you to teach Aang to _lighten up_ ," Sokka replied, grinning broadly as he nudged Zuko in the shoulder.

"But that… doesn't even work," he protested. "Aang's the cheerful one!"

Sokka pursed his lips.

"Yeah. I was going for a thing there. Had to follow the pun. Water Tribe – it's how we _roll_."

Zuko doubted that. From what little time Zuko spent around the Water Tribe men – whom he avoided whenever possible – even he had noticed that Sokka had done a good job wearing down their fond indulgence in last two weeks. Attempting to be encouraging, he offered, "Maybe just save that one for another time?"

Sokka nodded thoughtfully.

"Good idea."

"Anything else?" Aang called up to him.

They both did a cursory scan of the deck, looking for the next parcel to toss down, but there was nothing left. Annoyance crossed Sokka face as he registered the fact that he had done _all_ the work for _Zuko's_ journey.

"Thanks for all the help, jerkbender," he huffed out, elbowing Zuko in the side.

Zuko glared back at him, rubbing at his ribs as he tried to decide how offended to be. He still struggled with the casual teasing amongst the group. It was hard not to lose his temper, and harder still to strike back _without_ overreacting.

Schooling his expression into something a touch calmer, and far slyer, Zuko lifted his eyebrows.

"You're welcome," he replied smoothly – well aware of the suspicious look Sokka was giving him. "I appreciate you making sure I had time to say goodbye to Katara. Want me to _tell you about it_?"

Sokka twitched next to him, disgust and horror flashing across his face.

"Oh, man, _not cool_!"

"Huh? What's not cool?" Aang asked in confusion, pitching his voice loud to be heard up on the deck.

Zuko ignored him, focusing instead on Sokka, whose face had just taken on an overly casual look. Sokka leaned back against the guardrail of the stern, gazing out over the deck to where Hakoda was being bossed around by Toph.

"You know, I bet that'd be really instructional. For everyone. Maybe I should call Dad over, and you can tell _him_?"

Slumping, Zuko gave a baleful look to the other boy.

"Okay," he conceded grudgingly. "You win. This time."

"Hah! You bet I do. Although… you know, you really _should_ have a talk with Dad. At some point."

Zuko was aware that talking with the father of his girlfriend was the done thing. It was the honorable thing. His mother's negotiations with Mai's family had been extensive and conducted well in advance of him even being _introduced_ to his former betrothed. And it wasn't like such an arrangement wasn't on the table for him and Katara. Sokka had gone out of his way to mention Chief Arnook and Long Feng's little proposal on their first night on the ship – just to keep Zuko on his toes and aware of his obligations, he'd claimed.

However, Zuko was equally aware of the sharp bone machete Hakoda kept on his belt, and Katara's growing resentment of her father. Both represented ample excuse for him to keep his head down, honor be damned.

"I will," he asserted halfheartedly. "I just… I'm not good. With fathers."

Sokka nodding, a slightly abashed look crossing his face. He scratched at the back of his neck.

"Oh, right. It's easy to forget without your, you know." He gestured vaguely at Zuko's face; Zuko scowled. _He_ didn't find it particularly easy to forget. "No problem. I'll talk to him on your behalf."

Zuko wasn't entirely sure he was on board with that.

"Katara, too," Sokka added belatedly. "Is it just me, or is something up with her?"

"I wouldn't know," Zuko lied.

Truthfully, she hadn't said much to Zuko about Hakoda. It was clear that she was upset with her father, angry even, but Zuko couldn't fathom why. No matter how Hakoda had hurt her, though, he was sure Katara would forgive him like a dutiful daughter.

"Wouldn't know what? Guys?" Aang called.

Both boys startled, looking over the side guiltily. Aang was still down there, tapping a foot impatiently and looking about ready to clamber up the rope ladder back onto the deck. Belatedly, Zuko remembered they were supposed to be setting out soon.

"Don't come up," he said to Aang. "I'm coming down."

Aang, of course, ignored him. Launching himself up from the last rung of the ladder, he leapt up high into the air, only to settle back down onto the deck. Zuko looked at him askance.

"Stealthy," he said sourly.

There weren't any patrol ships around at the moment, but nonetheless, the entire crew had been trying to cultivate a habit of _not_ attracting Fire Nation attention. Which included not showing off airbending on the deck.

"Whoops! Right," Aang replied. Cheerfully, he flipped the hood of his appropriated Fire Nation cloak back up. Because that fixed it. "Anyway, we can't leave without saying goodbye. Or without my staff!"

"Gotcha covered, Twinkletoes," Toph said, coming up from behind them.

Zuko turned to see the group massing on the deck. There was the Water Tribe man bearing Aang's staff – who Toph gestured to imperiously, as if bestowing it back to the Avatar was her whim – as well as Hakoda's second in command, Bato. The stupid lemur was perched on the man's shoulder. Chief Hakoda himself stood at the fore of the group, taking up the space at Sokka's left. Katara walked up slowly and hesitantly from the side, edging past the others to take Zuko's hand.

"You weren't going to go without saying goodbye, were you?" she asked.

"I – uh. No! Of course, not!" Zuko flushed, aware at the same time of the Water Tribe men nudging each other with broad, amused grins. He shot a glare over at them – only to be distracted by Momo flapping his way past Zuko's nose directly over to Aang. He turned in place, leveling a glare at the kid. "Absolutely not! You are not taking that thing with us!"

"Aww, why not, Sifu Hotman?" Aang asked, sticking out his lower lip.

"Because. And don't call me that."

Aang appeared to mull that over, and then shrugged. The motion knocked his hood down once more. Zuko rolled his eyes, ignoring it. The disguise was probably a lost cause, anyway.

"Sorry, Momo. Take care of Appa for me, will ya?" he said, prying the lemur off of him and scratching softly behind its ears before handing it back off to Bato.

Sokka stepped forward, hugging Aang briefly and then rubbing his knuckles into the fuzz of black hair Aang was growing out.

"You guys be careful, alright?" Sokka said.

Aang smiled up at him, nodding.

"Don't worry."

Katara let go of Zuko's hand, rushing to bowl Aang over with a hug.

"Take care of him, okay?" she said, and just when Zuko was about to bristle at the sentiment, she turned a dazzling, bright smile on him. "That goes for you too."

He shifted awkwardly, wishing her hand was back in his.

"Okay."

Toph said her goodbyes with body blows that left both boys wincing, and then it was Hakoda's turn. He bowed to them, eyes serious despite the smile on his face.

"Avatar Aang, Prince Zuko, I hope that your journey finds you well and gives you the wisdom and strength we need. This is a hard war we fight – I regret that it is put on you boys, first among all of us. But I trust in your abilities and your honor. May the winds guide you back to us soon."

Zuko clenched his jaw, nodding stiffly. He couldn't deny the swell of emotion in his chest at the trust and respect in Hakoda's voice, but there was a strange, injured part of him that nonetheless wanted to snap back at him. Winds did nothing to guide Fire Nation ships.

Aang hopped down to the steamer, and the group was breaking up when Katara seized Zuko's hand again.

"Be careful," she whispered, leaning up close to him.

Zuko replied with a fervent kiss. His hands reached up to grasp at her, pulling her even closer. She gasped – and for a moment it sounded like pain. Distantly, he recognized that his hand was pressed against her side, fitting exactly into the impression of her scar. Knot twisting suddenly in his stomach, he slid his hand up, away from the scar. He could feel Katara relax under his fingers as he traced her shoulder blade.

When she finally stepped back, she looked away shyly, a blush darkening her cheeks.

"Come back soon," she said.

"I will," Zuko promised.

He levered himself over the rail, taking hold of the rope ladder and then jumping the rest of the way down to the steamer. He landed with a ringing thud and dusted himself off as he stood. Katara stood at the railing, wrapping her arms around her middle as she watched him. He nodded to her, eyes following the long banner of her hair that seemed so dark against the searing blue of the sky, and then he forced himself to look away.

Ignoring Aang, Zuko stalked into the pilot's cabin – his mind still on that kiss, that flinch – and a strange weight settled about his shoulders as he guided them out into the open ocean.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the related art by the very talented jin_fenghuang! http://jin-fenghuang.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d3fapzg

Aang sat on one of the boxes on the short deck of the steamer, well into the shade cast by the pilot's cabin, as he watched Zuko diligently take inventory. Aang would have helped, really, he would, but he considered this payback for Zuko shirking the work earlier. Also, between the scorching tropical sun, the bright reflections shimmering up from the water, and the metal deck plates, it was _really_ hot out there. Aang was torn between giving up on clothing altogether, and trying to bend up a storm just to keep cool. As it was, he'd taken off his Water Tribe shirt and he was eyeing his leggings speculatively. Leather wasn't his best friend even in normal circumstances, let alone this kind of humidity. It would leave him relegated to the shade until sundown unless he wanted a severe hotfoot, but it might be worth it for a little comfort. Even Zuko had stripped off his shirt, revealing shockingly pale skin underneath.

"Aren't you going to burn?" Aang had asked worriedly – leaving aside his questions about just where that flock of doves came from for the moment.

"No. I don't burn. No one in my family does. Just one of those things that makes us 'special.'"

Aang was pretty sure Zuko was being ironic there. Just in case, he decided to keep Monk Gyatso's lesson about "special" traits in animals and how to breed for them to himself. He was trying to stay on his sifu's good side, such as it was.

From stem to stern, the boat was no longer than Appa was, but Aang had done a pretty good job loading it up with everything they'd need for the next couple of weeks nonetheless. He was proud of his stacking there, a prized skill among airbenders. Important for making sure things weren't blown over. Zuko moved between the boxes, squinting at labels and peeking inside, huffs of annoyance coming from him frequently.

Eventually, he turned irritably toward Aang, pulling at his own hair while gesturing at the boxes with the other hand.

"What do we need all this _junk_ for? The island's only a day away!"

Huh. Really? Aang had thought the stuff was all self-evident necessities.

"Well, the fuel is for the ship," Aang started. Zuko's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Aang hurried on. "And the tent is for if we have to go camping. The lines and net are for fishing, and the sail is just in case the engine goes out. The salt is for salting the fish – I don't know, that was Sokka's idea.

"Oh, and the tofu is mine, so don't even look at it!" he added with a warning look.

No matter how many times Sokka claimed he was a meat-man, Aang _always_ caught him sneakily digging into the tofu. Which, come on, wasn't even fair! Was he trying to starve Aang?

Zuko smirked at him.

"So, you like eating tofu? Aren't you a bit young for that?"

Aang blinked at him in confusion.

"No, I'm old enough. Usually the really little kids do eat meat for their growth, but I'm old enough to choose…" Aang trailed off. Zuko was snickering, and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Air Nomad dietary habits. He scowled back at the other boy. "Fine. Don't tell me."

And Katara wondered why they didn't get along.

Eventually Zuko's laughter subsided and he took pity on Aang.

"You really never heard that phrase in Ba Sing Se?" he asked. Aang shook his head, crossing his arms sullenly. Zuko went on with a mischievous light in his eyes, "It's a pretty yellow joke. You know how tofu feels? And how some girls… well, you met Ty Lee."

He made a very round gesture in front of his chest, and Aang's eyes went wide. He fell off his box, sputtering.

"That's not what I meant!" A mortified blush crept up his cheeks. He'd been asking for Katara to cook tofu every night since they got on Hakoda's ship. His voice was high pitched and squeaky as he asked, "Katara doesn't know what that means, does she?"

Zuko went pale at the thought.

"Uhh. I really hope not. And I'm not asking her, either."

It was not worth taking the risk, Aang decided suddenly. He met Zuko's eyes and gave him a short nod.

"Time to start learning to cook," he declared.

"Good plan."

The silence extended between them for a long moment, and Aang took the time to worry about the fact that neither them actually did know how to cook yet. Even if the island was close by, this was probably going to _feel_ like a pretty long journey.

"So," he started, a crafty expression spreading across his face, "does this mean I can tease _Sokka_ when he eats tofu and then says he's a meat guy?"

Zuko snorted – which Aang was coming to realize was nearly hysterical laughter for him.

"Oh Spirits, _yes_."

Aang grinned back at him, but his smile faded as Zuko went back to his work on the deck, systematically deconstructing Aang's stacks and sorting the provisions into whatever he deemed vital and what he considered to be perfectly useless. Aang could tell the last bit because it was almost always accompanied by derisive mutter and a very serious, considering look over the bow. Like Zuko was thinking of throwing stuff overboard.

And when the considering look turned to a malicious, exultant look, that was when Aang had to intervene.

"Not my puppet!" he shouted, rushing out onto the deck to grab it back from Zuko.

"What did I say?" Zuko snapped, trying to grab it back. Aang floated back a step, holding it away protectively. He'd spent time on it – sewing, even! Sleeves didn't come with adorable button eyes, you know. "No music night, no interpretive dance night, and _no_ puppet night."

Aang gave him a startled look. He hadn't spent a lot of time imagining what Zuko's ship was like, but suddenly all kinds of weird visions danced in his head. Very literally. He'd never thought of General Iroh in that light before.

Zuko took advantage of his bafflement to try again to snatch the puppet away. Aang dodged out of the way just in time. He scurried back to his hiding place, leaving Zuko to steam on the deck. He looked, for a moment, like he was ready to pursue Aang, before he turned away abruptly. Aang smoothed the puppet on his lap, grinning down at it, before looking around for a place to hide it. He ducked down into the galley for just a moment, and when he came back up, Zuko was staring out across the ocean.

"Just how long do you think we'll be gone for?"

"I don't know. It sounded like the Sun Warriors' ruins are sort of far away and…" Aang bit his lip, wondering if he should go on. Zuko looked up, wiping sweat off his brow as he fixed him with an inquisitive look. "And, well, you said they were all dead. So it made me think that maybe we should plan to go somewhere _else_ too. The only other firebender I know who doesn't hate me is Avatar Roku, so I was kinda thinking we might go for a visit."

"But his temple was destroyed."

"Yeah... but, it's something. And maybe if we're there on the solstice again, the connection to the spirit world will be stronger."

Aang held his breath, hoping Zuko wouldn't ask why Aang needed to go all the way out to the island to see Roku. The truth was that he was hoping for something more than just a pat on the head or spirit world sit-down with Roku. He was hoping for a revelation – one he could share with Zuko, to guide them both on their path.

But Zuko didn't call him on it. He seemed to think for a moment before giving a short, stiff nod. He didn't seem altogether happy at the prospect of spending so much time on their little steamer – or maybe it was the reminder of the _last_ time they were in Roku's temple that gave him such a distant, guilty look. Aang shifted on his box, further back into the shade, feeling a touch unsettled himself.

It was really weird to think about when Zuko had been his enemy. In so many ways, he seemed like a different person now. Aang could admit he hadn't _actually_ known Zuko back then, but he definitely wouldn't have thought he was the kind of guy who would crack dirty jokes with him, let alone travel half way around the world to train Aang in firebending. Had he really been that guy all along? Or had something changed?

The monks had always taught Aang that beauty – like life – was a fragile illusion, but he really had to wonder if Katara healing Zuko's scar had somehow healed something _deeper_ as well. And if it had, what was Aang even hesitating about?

Aang drew his legs up to his chest, leaning his chin on a knee as he watched Zuko work. The sun was high but on the downward curve of its journey, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen on the deck.

Bumi had told Aang he would know his earthbending teacher when he met her. He needed someone who listened and waited. And while he wouldn't presume firebending was even close to the same – waiting was probably a really bad idea! – he had always thought he would _choose_ his firebending teacher. He would feel the same connection he felt with Katara and Toph, the realization that this person was meant to teach him. Zuko was the perfect teacher in a lot of ways. He was the Fire Lord's own _son_ , trained in the same style they'd used for generations, and he'd obviously suffered from fire in a way that not a lot of firebenders could be expected to understand.

But, well, it was Katara who had chosen Zuko, not Aang. Sometimes he wondered if Zuko would even be with them, if not for her.

Beyond that, there was the way she'd chosen him – that blood seal on Zuko's loyalty that brought him into the fold. He had _burned_ Katara. Okay, yeah, to save her life. Aang couldn't say that. He'd burned Katara accidentally, out of foolish pride and recklessness. He could see his own guilt about that reflected in Zuko's eyes when he looked at Katara. That guilt was the source of this very trip. Zuko used it to fuel his firebending, and although Aang knew that had to be wrong – it went so against everything Monk Gyatso had taught him – he had to wonder.

Maybe that was all firebending was. Even with the best of intentions, it was pain and guilt and destruction.

"Aang, get out here," Zuko commanded suddenly, drawing Aang out of his thoughts.

He blinked, refocusing on Zuko. The other boy had finished with his arcane sorting and had instead turned to poring over the charts he had sketched their course on with Sokka. Obediently, Aang extended the toe of his boot into the harsh sunlight, only to retract it immediately. Yep, still in the tropics.

"Uh, how about I stay right here? Where it's cool?"

"No. You need to learn the course for your shift. _Before_ nightfall."

Aang gave a skeptical look up at the sky before hopping off of his box and trudging over to where Zuko had spread the charts on the deck. The sun beat down on them both and Aang raised a hand to ward off the blinding reflection from the sea. At the same time, he could _swear_ he felt his scalp boiling under the intense light, hair or no.

"Can't we do this inside?" he begged. "It's too hot out here for me."

"It is _not_ too hot. You're a firebender. Learn to enjoy it," Zuko snapped.

"Oh, right. Because you look like you're enjoying it so much – Mister Wearing Shoes on the Searing Hot Deck!"

Zuko growled roughly at him, thrusting a finger forward.

"It's _Prince_ Wearing Shoes. And you're right, I don't need them. That warm deck is going to feel _really good_."

Aang bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to smile as Zuko dropped down into a crouch and began fumbling with the side laces of his boots. Zuko's temper was pretty predictable – and hilarious. From this side of the fireblast, anyway.

And, huh, wow, that was taking a really long time. Aang tilted his head, his awareness of the heat falling to the back of his mind as he tried to get a closer look at what Zuko was doing. He had some really complicated knots going on there.

"What… is that?" he asked eventually, bending over to poke a finger at the laces.

"It's a knot," Zuko replied irritably. He'd stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. "For tying shoes."

"No, it's not. That's a sailing knot." Aang smothered a laugh as Zuko glowered over at him. There was a slight tinge of pink to Zuko's cheeks – and not one caused by the heat. He looked almost embarrassed. Aang startled in realization, and then grinned. "Wait – seriously? You don't know how to tie your shoes?"

"Of course I do!" Zuko pointed to the knot. "See! Tied!"

Aang shook his head dismissively.

"That doesn't count."

And it didn't. Even in the Fire Nation, kids didn't learn sailor's hitches to tie their shoes. They learned rabbaroo ears just like everyone else. Except for the royalty, apparently.

"So when was the first time you tied your shoes?" Aang asked gleefully. "Last year?"

Zuko scowled, back stiffening in a way that indicated Aang was basically on the mark. What would that even be _like_? he wondered. Growing up in a palace, having servants clothe you, groom you, and – yack – probably bathe you. Sounded horrible, actually.

Softening, a bit, Aang reached out a conciliatory hand. Zuko jerked away.

"Hey, uh, I didn't mean to go so far with that. Sorry."

"You should be. You really hurt my feelings. Since I'm such a delicate flower," Zuko replied. He'd managed to work off both boots and discard his socks. He stood, stretching his back as he wiggled his toes pointedly. "Feels great. Care to join me?"

"Not really?" Aang asked, hopeful tone matched by the endearing expression he plastered on. Zuko was unmoved – except for the parts of him moving toward Aang's boots. He bowled Aang over easily, tugging the boot frontpieces off and unwrapping the leather strips much more quickly than he had any right to do, given his abilities with his _own_ shoes. Aang looked mournfully down as his bare feet, covering one with the other to try to save it from the broiling hot deck. "Gee, this is really relaxing, Sifu Hotman."

Zuko's glare was unforgiving.

Still pouting, Aang dropped onto the deck and withstood Zuko's entire lecture on how to read the map – as if maps of water currents were all that different from the air current maps Air Nomads used – and how to course correct using the stars as a guide. He pointed out their position relative to Hakoda's ship, and to their eventual rendezvous point near the western coast of the Earth Kingdom. It was only when Zuko started getting into how to use his hand as a sextant that Aang perked up, tossing off his sullen attitude and listening with genuine interest. After Aang duly demonstrated that he could fairly approximate degrees of a turn, Zuko let him get up, leading him over to the pilot's cabin to give a rundown of the controls.

Removing a stick bracing the wheel, Zuko turned it fractionally in his hands.

"You don't need to move it much – and you probably can't, anyway. The wheel connects directly down to the rudder, so when you move the wheel you're trying to move the entire _boat_."

Aang nodded blankly. He pointed to the stick.

"So… this whole time the _stick_ has been steering?"

Zuko crossed his arms, letting go of the wheel to glare at him.

"Either the stick steers, or we both _live_ in here."

Pulling a face, Aang looked around the cramped space. There was barely even space for them to stand next to each other inside, let alone eat or sleep. The very small space below decks – what wasn't taken up by the tiny galley, anyway – had been reserved for their bunks, but frankly, he'd been assuming they'd just sleep under the stars. Aang and enclosed spaces weren't the closest of friends.

Setting Aang's hands on the wheel, Zuko gave him a brief, commanding pat on the head settling back to watch him "practice." Aang shifted uncertainly under the attention. If this was Zuko teaching, it really wasn't so bad. It wasn't great – particularly since he had the strong sense that Zuko was close to throttling him at any given moment – but it was okay. Add some fire and call it bending. Maybe they'd make this work after all.

"Okay," he said after a long while. His hands had grown more confident on the wheel, and Zuko even gave him an approving nod. "Anything else I need to know?"

Zuko spread the charts out on the dashboard. He tapped an island on the map – one not far from their destination. Aang vaguely recognized both as being near the Western Air Temple.

"It shouldn't be a problem tonight, but you should be prepared. Tomorrow, we should pull into sight of the Western Blockade. We'll tack north to get around them," Zuko said, his finger tracing out the path. "If the currents are right we won't have to do anything, but there's a chance we'll be blown toward that island. Might be your watch when that happens. You'll need to correct back west if we're off course."

"What's wrong with that island?"

"It's a prison," Zuko said grimly. "The Boiling Rock. Trust me, we do not want to end up there."

"A Fire Nation prison? Isn't that…" Aang trailed off uncomfortably. He looked up at Zuko, taking in how tense he'd gotten, and even though it made him feel bad, he had to ask, "Isn't that where your Uncle is?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We've got a lot of prisons." He shook his head suddenly. "It doesn't matter. There's no way in _or_ out – it's in the middle of a boiling lake on top of a volcano. We wouldn't be able to risk it, even if I did know Uncle Iroh was there."

Aang furrowed his brow unhappily. Zuko didn't seem convinced of his own words, clenching his jaw as he forced himself to look away from the map, as if that could put any half-formed plan out of his head.

It wasn't hard to sympathize. Aang had been upset when he realized what General Iroh had done, sacrificing himself so they could get away back in Ba Sing Se, and he hated that they couldn't pay back his selflessness. But Zuko was right. It was too big a risk. He didn't even know firebending yet – how could he survive a boiling lake if he couldn't even walk on a hot ship?

Sighing, he reached out for the map. Together they started marking when and where they'd have to adjust to avoid the Boiling Rock altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding "eating tofu" and the word "yellow" – these are both euphemisms. Yellows means pretty much the same things "dirty" does in English. "Eating tofu" (chi doufu/吃豆腐) has two dirty meanings. Zuko gave the tamer one. The second one has all the connotations you'd expect from throwing "eating" into a sexual context.


	3. Chapter 3

Zuko dispiritedly picked at the steaming food in his bowl – overcooked rice, pickled cabbage, and salted picken meat. _Zhou_ aside, he hadn't quite mastered cooking yet, although the Avatar didn't seem to mind. Aang was chewing happily through his own dinner of rice and fermented tofu, thankfully with manners that Zuko could actually recognize as such. Not to speak ill of Katara or Sokka, but _what the hell_ , Water Tribe? The men on Hakoda's ship certainly gave Zuko's own crew a run for their money in vile dining habits.

He hunched in on himself, not liking where his thoughts were going. From his crew, they circled to the North Pole, and then inevitably to Uncle.

Scowling to himself, Zuko stabbed his chopsticks into his food, forcing down several unpleasantly mushy mouthfuls before he gave up, dropping it to the deck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aang blink at him in surprise, opening his mouth to quote an airbender platitude on indigestion, no doubt.

Zuko ignored him.

He lay back on the deck – whose warmth had settled into something more soothing, if no less omnipresent – and held one arm straight out before him, thumb splayed outward. He squinted his left eye shut as he tried to orient his position based on the stars in the sky above. It was edging into summer, so the stars would be moving into the _mansions of the vermillion bird of the south_. And yes, there, he could make out the four stars of the _high judge_ , and to the side, the one _maid-in-waiting_. Zuko held his knuckles directly under the _maid-in-waiting_ , marking her mentally before counting out degrees, moving his hand in an arc across the sky.

Zuko let his hand drop back to his side, staring up at the stars.

He was really close. A night of drifting on the ocean would take them to the blockade. Two or three days of careful navigation could take them in to port at Ember Island, or even the capitol itself.

"Almost home," he whispered, quiet enough that he almost couldn't hear the bitterness welling up in his voice.

"Wow," Aang said. Zuko turned his head to glare at the boy, who was leaning back, hand held out in front of him and face screwed up in concentration as he tried to mimic Zuko's calculations. He tossed a bright smile over at Zuko. "So, you're really good at astronomy, aren't you?"

"Firebender," Zuko said, pointing at himself. He pointed back up at the stars. "Fire. It's not just the sun, you know. We draw our power from the stars at night – even the moon, a little bit."

"Well, yeah, obviously. And comets," Aang said, bobbing his head. A pensive look past across his face, and he pulled at the leather wrappings around his legs. "Which you guys are good at predicting. In general."

"What are you asking?"

"Just…" Aang gulped, meeting Zuko's eyes worriedly. "This whole plan. It's sorta based on an _eclipse_ and we never really bothered to ask before but…"

"Does the Fire Nation know it's coming?" Zuko filled in for him, rolling his eyes. "Gee, I don't know, Aang. We predicted the one hundred year cycle of a _comet_ , but frequent solar eclipses that render us helpless are totally beyond our grasp."

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Aang demanded.

Zuko shrugged stiffly.

"Doesn't matter, does it? It's the one shot we have. Sure, Father and Azula will know the eclipse is coming, but they don't know about the invasion. I know exactly where they'll hide under the palace, and then you can…" Zuko trailed off. He didn't really know what Aang would do then; from the wide eyed, anxious expression on Aang's face, he didn't either. Zuko shook it off, continuing brusquely, "Whatever, you have the Avatar State, so that'll take care of that."

"Huh," Aang said. "That's a good question. Will the Avatar State work during an eclipse?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

Aang shrugged.

"The Avatar is all four elements. If one is blocked, can I really go into the Avatar State?"

Zuko stared at him. Agni, they really were going to die, weren't they?

"Guess we just need to discover the secret of firebending, so then I can finish the rest of my training with Katara and Toph," Aang said, forcing a broad smile as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Yeah. The rest of your training."

Which was obviously more important. No firebending on the day of the invasion pretty much meant this whole venture was a waste of time, didn't it? Zuko crossed his arms, scowling up at the stars as he stewed. Of course, the trip wasn't really for Aang's benefit, anyway. It was to fix him, fix Zuko's as ever mediocre firebending, as Katara had made clear. If they couldn't count on him in a clinch, then there was no point to bringing him along.

He was well into his sulk before he realized that Aang had scampered off below decks. He was just levering himself up, frowning as he tried to figure out what the Avatar could be up to – dishes would be nice, but unlikely – when the boy popped back above decks. He flew forward on an airscooter, book grasped between his hands, before he settled excitedly on the deck before Zuko.

"I know what'll cheer you up!" Aang exclaimed, thrusting the book forward.

Zuko took a moment to dust himself off, climbing to his feet, before he accepted the proffered book suspiciously. At least it wasn't a puppet. He frowned down at it, fingers tracing over the title.

"'Apple-pears to Zebra-bears'?" he read. He turned the book over. It felt old, and not altogether well made. The binding was falling apart, and the leather just felt… weird. He leaned in close, reading the smaller inscription on the side. "'An Illustrated Field Guide to Earth Kingdom Animals and Vegetation, as transcribed by Telik'. What is this, Aang? We're not going to the Earth Kingdom!"

"But Katara, Sokka and I did at the beginning!" Aang grinned nostalgically. "That's the book they took with them to help us. It's _hilarious_."

Curious, Zuko flipped it open. He could tell right away that the title hadn't lied – to a certain extent, anyway. It was definitely illustrated. What precisely those pictures were, though… He frowned, peering closer, before giving up. The light wasn't good enough for reading. He transferred the book to one hand, holding the other up as he lit a small flame above it.

"Oh, heh, right. Sort of ran into a similar problem the last time I tried to show this to someone," Aang said sheepishly.

Zuko gave him a questioning look.

"Who did you… You tried to show this to _Toph_?"

"Yeah. Didn't work out so well." Aang stepped closer, taking the book from Zuko to leaf through it, eventually pointing to a two-page block print. "Anyway, this is what I wanted you to see!"

Inked in careful detail, a young Water Tribe warrior in the full regalia of his people was poking at what appeared to be a hedgehogbit. Curly, flowing characters right above the animal's floppy ears explained: "Pears are as prickly as their name implies. Approach with caution!"

Eyebrows rising in surprise, Zuko paged through the book, eyes skimming quickly over several similarly ludicrous passages. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't hard to imagine Sokka in the illustrated warrior's place, poking strange, completely harmless wildlife with the corner of his boomerang. Or, for that matter, to envision Katara trying to coax over a "sea-star fruit" with the gentle sound of waves and the smell of its native ocean habitat – as depicted on page eighty-four.

And that was hilarious.

Zuko gave Aang a cautious smile, before asking, "Why are you showing this to me?"

"Well," Aang drew out the word, "I felt a little bad and wanted to make up for the shoelaces thing."

Zuko processed this as meaning: _I felt a little bad, and I'm going to feel worse when I tell Sokka and Katara and Toph, but please don't kill me before I get to do that_. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Aang, but he seemed oblivious to the look.

"You have to remember," Aang began, half-apologetically, despite the wide grin on his face, "They'd never been outside of the South Pole before. There was _no way_ for them to know what the Earth Kingdom's really like."

"Uh huh."

"So, you know, it's sort of mean to laugh. Like, if you laughed at me for saying 'hotman' or 'flameo' – that'd be _mean_."

"No, it wouldn't," Zuko replied automatically. It wouldn't be mean the next time, it _hadn't_ been the first time, and he really wished Aang would stop it already.

Aang nodded, eyes wide and innocent as he went on.

"Oh, good point. Then I guess it's alright if I tell you about the time with Sokka and Katara and the humming-squirrel of _doom_ …"

Zuko nodded.

"… and if I tell them about your shoelaces," Aang finished gleefully.

"I should have known," Zuko muttered. He looked down at the book in his hands and back up at Aang. He really didn't want to be humiliated in front of Katara – but he also _really_ wanted to know about the humming-squirrel, and Aang's deal made him feel less guilty for that. He pursed his lips and then nodded again, adding, "Yeah, okay."

Aang beamed at him.

Before he could start the story, Zuko asked, "Do you talk like this about me?"

"Sure! I mean, we did before when you were all," Aang made a hand gesture that Zuko felt was probably approximating a ponytail. Badly. He frowned back at him and Aang shrugged. "But it's different now. We're all friends – so it's okay if we joke about each other."

"Oh."

Zuko decided to take Aang's word for it. He probably had a much firmer grasp on what friendship entailed than Zuko did, after all. He'd yet to see the younger boy fake poisoning anyone, for instance, despite the fact that Zuko's childhood had been made up of many such "friendly" incidents.

They settled down onto the deck, although Aang bounced up to his feet from time to time as he acted out the story. He airbent the puppet he'd smuggled aboard to approximate the dive-bombing attacks of the humming-squirrel, put on a falsetto that Katara would surely kill him for if she heard, and made plenty of references back to the book. It was almost enough to distract Zuko from wondering exactly how far off their trail he'd been when all of this happened. If they'd known how much danger they'd really been in.

At the end, exhausted by his overly energetic storytelling, Aang collapsed happily back onto the deck. He finished off his cold meal in a few big bites, before grinning back at Zuko.

"So, are we even?" he asked.

Zuko pondered for a moment, tapping a lip. He thrust a hand out quickly, fire jetting from his palm to ignite the puppet left on the deck. Aang's jaw dropped in horror.

"Now we're even," Zuko said with satisfaction.

The puppet burned merrily for some time, before extinguishing with a last, pathetic puff of smoke. Aang gave him the wary shade of smile over its embers which Zuko was careful to return. He couldn't deny that it was a relief, however, when they parted to their different shifts. He wasn't that good with the social thing. He helped Aang lay out a bedroll and said goodnight, collecting his shirt before settling into the pilot's cabin for the first watch of the night.

He nudged the stick bracing the wheel aside, taking the wheel to keep himself wakeful. The stick had been Ensign Hong's trick – no matter how many times Lieutenant Jee yelled at him for sleeping on duty, the next night, he'd be snoozing away with the wheel braced and his feet up. Zuko grimaced at the memory. As if there wasn't enough bad about this trip already. He didn't need to start remembering his crew, or their treachery.

Zuko slouched his shoulders, leaning against the wheel as he peered out over the black ocean. His eyes skipped down to the deck, and for the first time, he found regretting his earlier thoughts. It would be nice if Aang were there to talk to him. Anything would be better than being alone with his thoughts. And anyway, the kid wasn't that bad of company.

When it was his turn for sleep, Zuko roused Aang before curling up on the deck, half-wishing for an excuse to stay awake himself. Sooner than he thought he would, he fell into a restless, unpleasant sleep.

The next morning, Zuko rose not _quite_ with the sun – instead, he rose in the half-light of pre-dawn as Aang unceremoniously nudged him awake with a foot. His dreams had been strange and disturbed. Half-formed images of Uncle Iroh in chains, Azula's sneer and his father's strong, shadowed outline chased him through the night. He wasn't sad to wake and leave them behind.

"Your watch," Aang said, voice as unforgiving as it was weary. There were dark smudges beneath his eyes, and he leaned on his staff like it was the only thing keeping him up.

Groggily, Zuko stretched and stood, allowing the Avatar to curl up on the deck he'd just vacated. Walking to the starboard side, he looked out toward the rising sun. The horizon was dark yet, only the slightest tinge of purple breaking through night. Zuko shut his eyes, exhaling as he sought the sun's power. It was easier now, as the stars began to fade into the background, moon already set and its touch on his chi distant.

Up north, he'd been out of his element. It was better near the Fire Nation, where the intensity of the sun and the heat of the air could almost match the vicious, swirling power Zuko felt inside. It felt familiar, in every sense. The sea air smelled the same as the air on his ship – the air on Ember Island. The sun felt as strong and volatile as the sun at the palace, when he'd still sat at his father's knee.

It was too much. He felt tight, bursting with fire he almost didn't want to control and memories he wished he could.

It didn't really matter what they learned about firebending. There was no fixing him.

Zuko let out a long breath and, opening his eyes to glare out toward the sun – and the lost civilization of the Sun Warriors – he turned away, holing himself up in the pilot's cabin.

Studiously following the maps and the scant landmarks they had out the porthole, Zuko steered the ship through the dawn and well into mid-morning. He set the course to take the past the outer edge of the Western Blockade, his hand scrawled calculations putting them well away from the Boiling Rock. Just as planned.

His hand was starting to cramp when Aang finally woke up again, greeting Zuko this time with a cheerful smile before disappearing into the galley to make breakfast.

It was actually a relief to sit down next to him, wheel braced again for auto-pilot, and eat with the Avatar. He didn't quite feel up for conversation, though, despite the progress toward friendship they had made the night before.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Aang asked between bites.

"Sail. Train. Eat."

"Oh." Aang seemed disappointed. "I thought you said we'd be coming up on the Western Blockade? Aren't we going to have to do some sneaky maneuvers to get around them?"

Zuko rolled his eyes.

"Hardly. The Western Blockade is where they send all of the wash-outs from the Academy. They'll be easy enough to get around."

The Eastern Blockade was formidable – particularly back when Zhao took it over – but the Western Blockade was a different matter altogether. Ba Sing Se had no formal navy, and they were too cowardly to mount an attack anyway. They were too busy throwing parties for bears and building jade ships in the Center Ring to be any kind of threat.. The blockade ships along that route had gotten used to doing nothing more than cursory checks that the correct flags were being flown long before Ba Sing Se had been conquered. It was hard to say if there was even a rock bottom for them to hit, but if it was possible, they had surely reached it since the fall of Ba Sing Se.

Zuko himself had run that blockade more than once, back when colony prices got too steep, or Zhao shaved the last _jiang_ of rice off his supplies just because. He had no concerns on that front.

"So… nothing exciting then?" Aang said. His eyes had drifted over Zuko's shoulder. He pointed. "Not even that?"

Zuko whipped his head around, dropped his _zhou_ to the deck, and fumbled for the spyglass at his belt. In the distance, almost at the horizon, two ships almost appeared to be moored together. Zuko frowned. It was too far out from the blockade for a prisoner transfer or a supply run. No one would sail that close to another ship _on purpose_ unless…

He raised the spyglass to his right eye – habit – and peered through. His eyes both narrowed immediately into a glare.

"Pirates," he spat.

"Really?" Aang asked. Zuko's hand clenched around the spyglass; the Avatar somehow managed to sound _hopeful_ and apprehensive at the same time. "Do you think they're the same ones who…"

"Who Zhao hired to kill me?"

Zuko moved the glass infinitesimally to the left, trying to catch any details on the ship, anything he could recognize. He was all for sailing to the Sun Warriors' ruins and back as quickly as possible, but he couldn't deny that fighting _those_ particular pirates would be pretty damn satisfying. He tightened his grip around the leather of the spyglass, trying to will it to reveal more. But no. The ship was too far away. He saw a brief, nearly invisible flare of fire against the blinding blue sky and black dots of men moving on the far ships.

When he lowered the spyglass, Aang was watching him, an abashed and curious look on his face. Zuko fidgeted under the attention.

"What?" he demanded.

"I just… well, I was gonna say 'the pirates we stole that scroll from.' Zhao really did that to you?"

"Yeah. You're surprised? You know better than anyone that Zhao and I hated each other."

Aang nodded silently. A conflicted look passed over his face, brow furrowing. Aang looked down, picking at the Water Tribe bindings around his legs.

"I know. But I … I don't know, for a second there, when you said his name, I remembered something else. Like… a flash? I remember you trying to save him."

Zuko blinked in surprise.

"You remember drowning Zhao?"

Aang jumped to his feet, eyes going wide as he looked at Zuko in shock.

" _What_? I didn't do that!"

"You're the one who just said you _did_!" Zuko shot back.

"But that wasn't me! That was just the Avatar State. Or the Ocean Spirit! Or something," Aang protested, looking more unsure as he went. "I don't know… Maybe it _was_ me."

"Trust me. When my crew died, they knew it was you," Zuko said shortly. He shot one last glower toward the ships on the horizon, before turning away. Anger barely leashed, he added, "If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure we don't sail into that battle."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how purple Chinese astronomy is. And also probably for how wrong I got it. The jade boat in Ba Sing Se is a reference to the jade boat Empress Cixi's commissioned for the Summer Palace in Beijing at great cost to the public.


	4. Chapter 4

Aang's back stiffened as he felt more than heard Zuko come back onto the deck. Probably just to argue with him more. He scowled, breathing out deliberately as he tried to regain his focus. He'd really thought they were starting to get along! Sure, there was a little more pyromania from Zuko than strictly necessary, but it hadn't been directed at _Aang_ \- a major improvement from their previous relationship. But then it all went wrong.

He wasn't afraid of the Avatar State. He _wasn't_. That was sort of the whole thing the guru had taught him, that he couldn't focus on his fear of that power or the cost of it. He needed it to preserve and protect the things he loved. He'd never defeat the Fire Nation without it, and the cost to the rest of the world would be far greater than the cost to himself. He got that now.

But Aang also knew the Avatar State wasn't really him. Or, it was, in every variation since the beginning of the Avatar Cycle. It was more him than anything was, but it wasn't truly _Aang_. In the Avatar State, he did things that Aang would never choose to do. Like drowning thousands of soldiers.

Aang swallowed back against the guilt the thought brought. Closing his eyes, he tried to stretch out and feel the waves buoying the ship up and down. He could sense the barest hint of Yue's pull, along with the much more powerful daytime push of La. It was comforting to feel their power, but not join with it. Power to be respected, but not feared, and used only sparingly.

Just like the Avatar State.

Finally feeling centered, Aang let a smile flicker across his face. Eyes still closed, he reached into the flow of power ushering the boat along in the water. He pushed along with La, rippling the ocean, and then pulled. He could feel the water come under his direction, spiraling above the deck of the small ship in a long column. He shifted his weight onto his back foot, following through the forms as his hands guided the water above him.

He opened his eyes, grinning up at the shining spout of water above his head, hands still working in quick circles to keep it steady. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the scowl slipping off Zuko's face. With determination, Aang snapped his hands back down to his side – the water shuddered and creaked as it froze – and he then clenched his hands into fists, shattering the ice. Turning about on his heels, Aang thrust his hands outward, and the ice sprayed back out over the ocean, a hundred sharp slivers arcing in the tropical sun and then disappearing.

Breathing evenly, Aang completed the form, nodding to himself in satisfaction before he spun to meet Zuko's stunned eyes.

Aang looked up at him challengingly.

"Nothing to say?"

Zuko blinked at him.

"You're… really good at that."

"I had a good teacher," Aang replied with force, and then immediately felt bad. "I mean, uh, you know Katara. She's really amazing."

It was weird, Aang thought, how Katara had somehow become the safe topic.

"Yeah, she is," Zuko said. A dopey look crossed his face briefly. Safe, but not exactly something Aang wanted to hear about in detail. He scrunched up his face, and Zuko abruptly came back to himself. Clearing his throat, Zuko turned to look out over the ocean. "You could show me more, sometime. Waterbending, that is."

"Uh, sure, okay."

Aang slid into a ready stance, unsure if he was ready to relax yet. It was weird, demonstrating bending for Zuko, and weirder still given their argument earlier. For a guy with a hair-trigger temper, Zuko could be remarkably hard to read at times. Was this his gesture of reconciliation? Or was this all going to manage to blow up in Aang's face again?

"Uncle said he learned from waterbending," Zuko added, when Aang hesitated. He was quiet for a moment, seeming to think, before he made a decision. "Maybe we could start with that."

"You lost me."

Zuko gave Aang a measured, sidelong glance.

"We should start your firebending training –" Aang opened his mouth to interrupt, but Zuko beat him to the punch, continuing, " _but_ since we need to find the 'secret of firebending' or whatever first, maybe we should start with waterbending."

"So… you want to teach me waterbending instead of firebending?" Aang squinted at Zuko. "No offense, but maybe you should leave that to Katara."

"It's not waterbending!" Zuko snapped. "It's a firebending technique my uncle figured out _from_ waterbending – and it's the only way to counter lightening!"

Okay, yeah, when he put it that way, it did seem like a really good idea. Much as he was wary about learning firebending in general, and from Zuko in particular, Aang wasn't at all keen to get lit up by Azula again.

He nodded eagerly up at Zuko, and together they walked back out to the center of the deck. The dishes from the morning had long been cleared away, boxes shifted off to the side, so there was plenty of room to practice. Zuko fell easily into a ready stance, breathing deeply, and Aang mimicked him. For all the bending arts, it was remarkably the same sometimes. They started in the same position, felt for the same energy. It was just how they directed it that changed.

Aang watched Zuko closely as he went through the movements for redirecting lightning, tuning out his voice as the older boy talked. It made sense, in a way. All of the bending was the same, that's how it could come together in Aang himself. To turn the power away, to change its form or dissipate it altogether, all that took was the will to take on the power itself. He could let it in and just as easily let it go without being harmed.

Since getting barbequed once was enough. Really.

When it came time for Aang to practice the movements, feeling his chi flow and imagining the lightning coursing along that path, through his stomach and out his fingertips, he allowed Zuko close to adjust his stance and his posture. Zuko frowned minutely before nodding, satisfied, and Aang grinned up at him. Not so bad, for a first lesson.

His smile faded as he watched the other boy. Zuko's hair blew in the faint ocean breeze, lifting away from his face. He was half turned, and for a moment, Aang imagined that when he turned back his face would again be scarred.

"Have you ever redirected lightning?" he blurted.

It'd be nice to know if the technique actually worked. But, well, more than that, Aang only knew two people in the world who could even _throw_ lightning. One was Azula, who had tried to kill them both with lightning in a fit rage when she saw Zuko was healed. The other was the Fire Lord himself. Aang knew what the Fire Lord had done to Zuko, burning his own son, and he had to wonder… was that how Zuko learned to redirect lightning? Why General Iroh taught him this?

Zuko shook his head.

"No. But next time we face Azula, I'll be ready. She fights with everything she has, every time. That's what makes her so dangerous. _You_ can't hold back either," Zuko said, fixing Aang with a stern look.

Aang bit back his comment on that: _Runs in the family_. Never once would Aang accuse Zuko of holding back, or going easy on him – particularly not in the bad old days.

"Zuko…" Aang started. He was trying to think of a delicate way to put this. 'Cause, come on, there was not holding back and then there was _not holding back_. Even Zuko couldn't possibly want him to kill Azula. "I know you mean well and all, but that kinda doesn't apply to me. I always have to hold back. It gets sorta messy otherwise."

General Fong could attest to that.

"No. You can't hold back. We will _lose_ if you do."

Aang threw his hands up in frustration.

"Make up your mind! You were _just_ yelling at me for going all Avatar State and killing soldiers at the North Pole, and now you're telling me that I have to do the same thing to your sister. Don't you even care? She's your _family_!"

"Of course, I care!" Zuko shouted back.

"Then how can you ask me to kill her?"

"Oh, right, good point," Zuko scoffed. His eyes were narrowed and but for the high color in his cheeks, his expression had gone flat. "She's my family. Guess I should be on _her_ side."

"That's not what I meant. I just – there's gotta be a third way."

"No, there doesn't. You fight with everything you have, or you die."

While he shouted, Zuko crowded in on Aang, forcing him back across the deck. He stumbled slightly when they reached the port side, wheeling his arms, before righting himself. Aang shot a worried look over the guardrail – the water looked murky and deep and was that something _moving_ down there? – before his eyes shot back up to Zuko. He wasn't done yelling, apparently.

"You can't save everyone. Do you even know how much of an insult it is, fighting you? You always _know_ you'll win – you don't even try! Not everyone has the talent you do, not everyone can be so confident that they'll make it through to the end. We don't get second lives to try again!"

" _What_?" Aang pushed at Zuko, forcing him back a step. "You have no idea what you're talking about! The Avatar Cycle isn't a do-over card! You think I don't know what happens if I fail? This is my _only_ chance and I'm going to do it right!"

Tense silence fell between them, broken only by their heavy breathing. Zuko glared at Aang from beneath his hair, while Aang raised his chin to meet him head on. His fingers itched for his staff, and he had the strong feeling Zuko wanted a weapon himself – Zuko's fists were at his sides, smoking leaking from between his fingers.

"What do you want from me?" Aang asked. He wanted to grab Zuko, to shake him. He called Aang a killer for fighting at the siege of the North – and then told him to kill his family. He said he cared about his family, but he was on Aang's side anyway. He just couldn't figure Zuko out. "What is this about? Is it just revenge for what they did to you?"

Zuko rolled his eyes.

"It's about defeating the Fire Lord."

"Duh. But why are _you_ here? And don't say Katara!" he added. But that was the answer, wasn't it?

Aang saw confirmation in how Zuko's open mouth immediately clicked shut. Zuko brought his hand up to his face, pinching his nose as he sighed out his annoyance.

"I… don't always know," Zuko admitted haltingly. Aang eyes widened in shock. Zuko dropped his hand from his face, looking away from him. "I know it must be destiny. I'm a traitor now, and my family is as much an enemy to me as it is to you. My uncle is in chains, somewhere, just for the crime of protecting me. It's my destiny to help you, and to free him, but…"

"But you didn't choose this," Aang breathed out, feeling slightly sick. Wow, comforting this was not.

"You don't choose your destiny." Zuko gave him a sharp look. "I'm here now. I'll train you, and then we'll fight Azula and my father together."

"Kill them, you mean."

"It's not like you haven't killed before."

Aang opened his mouth to protest – how many times did he have to say "Ocean Spirit" before it stuck? –and that was right when the ship lurched. He spun around on his heels, looking up into a shadow that blotted out the sun. It was a dragon.

"Huh," he said numbly. "There really was something in the water."

* * *

The dragon's red scales gleamed in the sunlight, turning a burnished orange as it twisted and turned its body in the water. It raised its head, leveling a yellow, unblinking glare at the ship. Zuko met its gaze, hardly breathing as he watched the dragon's irises widen and then contract into nothing more than slivers. There was a mesmerizing intelligence in its eyes. No, not 'it', Zuko realized abruptly. _She_. She was beautiful. Zuko found he barely reacted when the creature reared up, wings flaring out from her back as she roared.

Aang startled beside him, wincing at the deep, scratching sound of the dragon's voice.

"I thought you said they were all gone!" he yelped, pulling at Zuko's sleeve. His voice was barely audible over the dragon's cry.

They were gone – they were supposed to be. Their extermination had been the sport of the Fire Nation royalty for generations. The last had been killed by Uncle Iroh himself, earning him both the title of Dragon and the favor of Fire Lord Azulon. Dimly, Zuko thought Uncle must have lied.

Huffing out smoky breaths, the dragon slithered on top of the water, coiling and uncoiling her body. She snapped her head to the side, baring her teeth as she studied them. For a brief moment, Zuko's attention was drawn from the magnificent animal – out toward the far distant island. The waves broke unnaturally near the shore; something moved beneath them, tip of a wing cutting out from under the water. Another dragon.

"They're amazing," Zuko breathed.

"They?" Aang asked in a panic. He whipped his head around, trying to find the other, and then crowded in close to Zuko. "They're going to eat us, aren't they?"

Slowly, Zuko shook his head.

"I think…" He frowned, stepping closer to the dragon. Aang stuck by his side, despite his apparent nervousness. The dragon exhaled smoke in Zuko's face and the hot air swirled around them both for a moment, pooling before the cooler sea air swept it away. "I think it's judging us."

"Are we passing?"

"Not yet," Zuko replied irritably. He was starting to wish Aang would just shut up and stop distracting him. He tried to focus just on the dragon. There was a message in her movement – something demanding and powerful, but he couldn't understand what. Frustrated, he shook his head. "I don't know what it wants!"

"Maybe it's hungry?" Zuko shot Aang a look, and the boy hastily clarified, "I mean – not that I think you want to eat _us_ , Mr Dragon Sir – but maybe it wants an offering? Of food?"

They had plenty of that. Zuko lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, giving Aang license to try it. The other boy left his side only for a moment, coming back with a wrapped seal-bear hide. Aang opened it, revealing the salted fish inside which he presented to the dragon.

Zuko slapped a palm across his face.

" _Fish_?" he hissed to Aang. "You think the dragon swimming in the ocean doesn't have any _fish_ to eat?"

"Well, what do you want to try? I don't think he'll want the tofu!"

"She," Zuko corrected. He ignored Aang's surprised look, grumbling instead, "Where's Momo when you need him?"

"I told you we should have – hey! What is it with you and Sokka and Momo?"

Zuko glared at him. He jerked his head back toward the waiting dragon, which had somehow started to look irritated with them. As if she didn't look ferocious enough to begin with.

"Can we deal with the problem at hand? What else could we give her?"

Aang furrowed his brow.

"Well," he drew out the word, looking anxiously around the deck. "Maybe she's thirsty?"

"That's… actually not as dumb as it sounds," Zuko said slowly.

He looked back at the dragon, studying her. All the legends he recalled mentioned the dragons living mostly on land, not at sea. There was a good chance that she needed sweet water to drink instead of the salt water. And, really, he just had no damn idea what else to do for the dragon. What he _wanted_ to do was reach out and stroke her snout – but that would be putting his hand really close to her enormous teeth, and he was entirely cognizant of what a bad idea that would be.

Aang brightened. He bowed to the dragon, announcing, "Please accept this offering, and be less thirsty!"

He turned to one of the fresh water barrels, hands moving elegantly as he bent the water out, turning it into a ribbon that he directed to the dragon. He moved his legs and arms closer together, centering himself, as he pulled the water into a ball that he swirled in front of the dragon, offering it for her to drink.

The dragon looked from Aang to the water and reared back, nostrils flaring. Zuko's eyes widened in alarm, and he just barely managed to knock Aang out of the way when the dragon let out a huge plume of fire. Zuko parted the fire, pushing it aside with presses of his hands and blocking as much as he could with his forearms. This was a skill he'd never been very good at, despite the time he'd had to practice it. Deflection was all well and good, but true firebending was in the _attack_ \- or so he'd been taught.

The flames around flared him, singing his clothes. Zuko winced against the rolling wave of heat, trying to move to the side, to draw the dragon's fire away from Aang. It was hard to breathe in the scalding, dry air, but he had to. He had to bend, to channel that fire and heat away before it killed them both.

Just as suddenly, the fire abated. Zuko waited a moment, still tensed, before peeking over his arm. Rather than inhaling to breathe fire at them again, the dragon was diving down into the ocean.

Zuko sucked in a deep breath of clean air, coughing out soot from scalded lungs. Leaning down, he helped a wary Aang to his feet.

"Is it… gone?" Aang asked.

"I don't think so," Zuko said grimly. It just figured. He found one of the few dragons left in the world, the original firebenders, and then it tried to kill him.

There was a disturbing rushing sound from beneath their feet, and then the clank of something striking the metal hull. Striking _hard_. The ship jumped at the impact, and they were again thrown to the deck. Zuko gritted his teeth, trying to think of anything he could do. He had to stand and fight, somehow.

He tried to stand, swaying on the unsteady deck. Aang stood beside him. He had an easier time maneuvering, just relying on jumps and airbending any time the deck dropped out from beneath his feet. Quickly, he found his way over to the pilot's cabin where his staff had been stashed, and brought it to bear. The Avatar's expression was serious and cautious as he set a level gaze out over the ocean, waiting for the dragon's next move.

Following his lead, Zuko put his hand to his belt where his knife was tucked, the one Uncle Iroh had given him so long ago. He really didn't think he take down a dragon, firebending by himself.

Before he could pull the knife, the dragon rose again from the water. She snarled once and then whipped her tail across the bow of the boat.

Capsizing it.


	5. Chapter 5

Red scales shimmered under Aang's hand. No, actually, it was the other way around. His hand, translucent and slightly blue, shimmered above the scales of the red dragon. He lay face down on the dragon's head, blinking himself to awareness. Aang pushed himself up just enough to peer over the side of her head – he could make out long whisker-y tendrils, the point of a fang, and his own hand, limp and tattooed and full-bloodedly real hanging from her mouth. A boot he recognized as Zuko's stuck out as well. Water raced beneath the dragon as she moved sinuously through the water, carrying them both to the shore Aang could see in the distance.

All things considered, it would probably be a good thing to be awake right now.

"Oh no," he groaned. "The spirit world? _Now_?"

"Not quite," Avatar Roku intoned from behind him.

Aang drew himself up to stand and turned, a smile lighting his face. Roku glided through the air on Fang's back, robes remaining perfectly still and unruffled; both of them were limned in spirit world blue. Roku tilted his head toward Aang in greeting, before raising his eyebrows.

"Honestly, Aang, you made an offering to a dragon by _waterbending_?" he admonished gently, chuckling.

Okay, yeah, fair point. He hadn't thought of it that way.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Aang said. He felt like he would be blushing, but for the whole issue of his body being in the dragon's mouth.

"I know you have been eager to talk with me again, but you hardly needed to go about getting my attention so dramatically."

"Well, I didn't mean to… it just sort of happened. Wait. You knew I wanted to talk to you?" Aang asked. He felt slightly put out and irritated all at once. This whole thing was to try to learn firebending properly. Couldn't have Roku stopped by before the dragon tried to roast them?

Roku seemed to hear his question, fixing Aang with a stern look.

"My duty is not to solve your problems for you, but only to guide you down your path. You must learn firebending in your own time, and in your own way."

"Then why are you even here?"

"Ah, well." A slightly chagrined look passed over Roku's face. "It is time that you learn more about my own path, so that you may avoid the mistakes I once made."

Oh, so, story time. Aang perked up immediately.

"Our time is short," Roku continued. He gestured to the quickly approaching island. "Soon you will awaken, and the Sun Warriors will be upon you. Listen carefully to what they have to say, and trust in your inner fire."

"Uh, sure, okay."

Aang really wanted to ask about the whole Sun Warriors thing – since weren't they all dead? – but he bit his tongue. The dragons were supposed to be dead too. Two strikes against the Fire Nation census department, he guessed.

"I'm afraid my story does not end well, as you know. It begins far better – with friendship and prosperity. I was once a noble son of a great Fire Nation Lord, and loyal retainer to Crown Prince Sozin himself. Indeed, he was my best friend." A rueful, sad look passed across Roku's face. "I'm afraid my judgment was lacking in both regards. I failed my Fire Lord and my friend."

Aang didn't really hear the last part. His mind was still processing.

"You were friends with _Fire Lord Sozin_?" he asked in horror. "What – _why_?!"

"We had much in common, at the time," Roku said lightly. When Aang opened his mouth to protest further, Roku held up a hand, forestalling him. "However, that story is best reserved for another time. Perhaps when you are older. For now, our discussion must remain focused. You fear to trust Sozin's great grandson."

"Well, yeah."

Zuko had as good as admitted that he had no real belief in their side. Aang couldn't decide what bothered him more: the fact that Zuko still loved his family and might be swayed back to their side, or that he might genuinely see victory in killing them. It was awful either way.

Ugh. Aang dropped back down onto the dragon's head, an uncomfortable and sick feeling overtaking him. He looked balefully toward Roku, hoping that some kind of answer was forthcoming.

"It is not for me to say whether you should trust him," Roku said.

Oh, of course not. Aang scowled.

"But what about what you just said? You trusted Sozin, and it backfired. On _everyone_. Why should I trust Zuko? How can I know that won't happen again?"

"Fire Lord Sozin was a very different man from Prince Zuko," Roku said. He looked away from Aang, out over the ocean. His expression was distant, and not without unhappiness. "He was ambitious, fierce, and far more patient than I ever gave him credit for. While those may seem admirable qualities, they were dragged down by his almost intolerable pride and narrow-mindedness. He saw greatness in himself alone, and wished it to be reflected back at him by the rest of the world. Tell me Aang, is that what Zuko does?"

Aang shook his head.

"No… but that's not really the thing anyway."

Roku nodded knowingly.

"You worry that Zuko is fickle, that he will find cause to change sides again."

Well now that he _mentioned it_ … Aang shook his head, resisting the urge to shout again at Roku in frustration. From the corner of his eye, he could see sand and trees and rustling movements that were probably Sun Warriors, _improbable_ as that sounded. He needed this fast!

"No! I'm worried that he's _right_ ," he burst out. "What if I do have to kill the Fire Lord? What does that make me?"

"The Avatar," Roku replied simply. At Aang's expression, he added, "I once took mercy on a man who did not deserve it, because of my former loyalty to him. The world suffered while I turned a blind eye. Aang, you will find your own path, but you must be mindful of my mistakes.

"Do not push an ally away because you fear he is right, and do not fear your own duties. The life of an Avatar is not an easy one, nor are our choices. They _should_ not be made easily, but they should benefit all, not merely yourself or your memories."

Aang stared at him, feeling the cold sting of loss at his words. He was talking about Gyatso, the Air Nomads. They were nothing more than memories now.

"Roku…"

"But do not be so hard on yourself," Roku continued blithely. He gave Aang an encouraging look. "You can always trust in your feelings, in your own sense of right and wrong. You can pass that on, by the way. I think my great grandson could use hearing it, from time to time."

Aang raised his hand slightly.

"Okay, so now I'm _really_ confused."

Roku smiled mysteriously. Fang reared up beneath him, brushing close to the dragon Aang rode in a gesture that almost seemed affectionate, before wheeling around. They flew together high into the sky, almost straight up, before disappearing in a wink of sunlight.

The dragon stilled beneath him, coiling onto the beach. Aang's eyes widened as he watched a large group of warriors emerge from the jungle – men with red slashes of paint across their face, and women wielding plumes of fire. He gulped – or wanted to, anyway.

"Body, body, come on, _body_ ," he whispered frantically.

The dragon opened its mouth, dropping his body unceremoniously onto the sand. He rolled down the banked incline, yellow sand sticking to his face where it lay slack against the ground. Zuko rolled only halfway down before a Sun Warrior caught him by the arm, eyes narrowed with distaste.

"Come on!" Aang shouted.

And with that, he felt an abrupt, disorienting pull.

He sat up in his body – his slimy, bruised, very real body – and coughed. And then spit. Dragon saliva. Everywhere. So gross.

Aang was busy shuddering and inching toward the ocean to rinse off when Zuko groaned himself awake. The Sun Warrior holding his arm dropped it immediately, backing away to drop into a firebending stance.

"What happened?" Zuko croaked.

A large man stepped to the fore of the Sun Warriors. Half his face was painted in red, extending all the way up to his enormous headdress of gold and feathers. His expression was forbidding as he crossed his arms, glaring down at them.

"You interrupted and desecrated the holy mating rituals of the firebending masters – Ran and Shao!"

Zuko peeled himself off the beach, blinking muzzily up at them. He stood somewhat unsteadily, only to be forced back several paces by the warriors.

"Mating ritual?" Aang asked. "Oh, the masters are the _dragons_!"

The Sun Warriors did not look amused. Neither did Zuko.

He held up an arm, sleeve dripping with dragon saliva, and stared at it in horror.

"What am I covered in?"

***

It had not taken the Sun Warrior Chief long to decide, with narrowed eyes and broad, angry gestures, that the two intruders would face the justice of the masters. Zuko and Aang were summarily seized and led from the beach through the tangle of jungle to a small settlement. It was not a long journey, although it was an unpleasant one. Zuko's shoes _squished_. His hair was plastered down to his head, and a chill began to creep up his spine. He caught himself stopping as they walked, closing his eyes to breath fire out his nose, raising his own internal temperature to dry the dragon… _whatever_ on his clothes.

Stopping again, with Aang barreling right into Zuko's back, he took a moment to lift his eyes to the skyline. In the distance, he could see twin mountains piercing the forest canopy. Zuko stretched out his hand, raising his arm to judge the distance, but the warrior next to him grabbed him, and again he was pushed forward.

Those mountains… he'd heard about them. The Sun Warriors' ancient ruins lay not far from the base, and that was the direction the Chief was leading them in. At least he knew where they were.

The village of the Sun Warriors was much smaller and much less grand than the ruins were said to be. An unpaved, beaten earth road wound through the village. The houses stood stout and low, with only a few, rare decorative carvings in their rock. As they were led to the edge of the village, near enough to the ruins that Zuko saw glimpses of them through the trees, the style changed into something much more recognizably Fire Nation. The stone houses became wood, and flame crested cornices hung from the rooftops.

He blinked in surprise at the final house of that row, over which a carved placard hung: _Research Station_.

"What is that about?" he asked, steps slowed to a confused halt as he pointed up at it.

The Chief eyed him for a moment before explaining.

"We have hidden ourselves away from the corruption and violence of your people for some time, but we are still of interest to _academics_ ," he said, pronouncing the word with bemusement. He gestured to the warriors, and again they propelled Zuko and Aang along – this time into the house. The Chief followed.

Inside, there were an array of interesting artifacts – stone tools, beads, torques and other jewelry. Laid out and labeled as such on a Fire Nation desk. Fire Nation tapestries hung on the wall, and the wall was lined with books, scrolls, ink stones and brushes.

It really was a research station.

A pair of young men with shaggy haircuts looked up from their cataloguing when the Chief entered, nodding briefly at him before getting back to work. Both were dressed in Fire Nation clothes – although they seemed a bit outdated, by Zuko's reckoning.

"So," the Chief continued. "We have found it in our best interest to humor them."

"Wait, so you pretend to be Fire Nation and let the Fire Nation archeologists dig up your village?" Aang asked. He looked torn between being completely baffled and completely appalled.

"Well, no. No digging. They can look around the temple. If they go too far, there are always the traps," the Chief said cheerfully. "Professor Zei proved to be particularly troublesome, but he learned his lesson eventually."

"Wow, Professor Zei? I met him! He said he'd never been to the Fire Nation."

The Sun Warrior Chief scowled at Aang, who immediately took a step back – right into the grip of a warrior.

"This is not the Fire Nation! We are merely a nation _of_ fire. If the Fire Lord had deigned to defend this island during the war with Emperor Chin, perhaps we would still acknowledge him."

Aang shot Zuko a confused look. Zuko shrugged.

"We try not to talk about that."

The Chief huffed out a long, hot breath, glaring at them both. Zuko straightened immediately, refusing to be cowed.

"Enough pleasantries," the Chief said. He pointed to the corner of the room, where there was a large engraved wooden box as well as a basin of water. His eyes slid up and the down boys in disgust, as he suggested, "You will find appropriate clothes. I must consult with the masters before your punishment is meted out."

He turned abruptly, sweeping out of the room. The majority of the warriors left, but several stayed behind to glower at Zuko and Aang.

The two looked at each other.

"What now?" Aang asked.

"Now," Zuko said grimly. "We change. And _burn_ these clothes."

"But I _told_ you! It was just dragon spit!"

Zuko didn't see how that made it any better. He stalked over to the corner, pushing aside the top of the box. It looked rich, with polished wood and mother-of-pearl inlays that sparked the memory of his room back at the palace, but he ignored that in favor of the contents within the boxes. He picked up one of the pieces of fabric, holding it away from his body as he frowned.

"Oh, uh," Aang started, coming over to Zuko's side to stare at the clothing. "I thought it was going to be _Fire Nation_ clothes in there. Since, you know…"

He gestured around at the room, decked out entirely in Fire Nation furnishings.

"Apparently this is more appropriate for facing the masters," Zuko replied, lips twisting sourly. He could only imagine what Katara would say, seeing him dressed up like a Sun Warrior peasant when he got back. Maybe washing his clothes would be a viable option…

Zuko turned on his heel, and immediately rethought the proposition of washing when his boots squelched against the hard packed floor. Yeah, no. Fire. Fire for all of it. He could deal with dressing up in native clothes, as long as he didn't have to deal with being covered in dragon spit anymore.

He tugged at the laces of his boots – he didn't want to admit it, but he really did wish he knew a simpler way of tying them – giving a quick chuff of satisfaction when they came off. He was tackling his belt when Aang cleared his throat. Zuko shot him a questioning look, eyes following where Aang pointed.

The guards. And the "scholars."

Zuko stopped, stiffening as he stood up fully. One of the guards met his eyes, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"Out," he growled roughly. "Guard us from outside."

The two guards – muscular, tall women whose eyes glittered above red slashes of paint – shared a look before shrugging amicably, strolling out the door. The scholars seemed more apt to protest, but soon wilted under Zuko's glare.

It didn't take long to wash with water from the basin, change into the strange garb, and the pile his and Aang's soiled clothes in the center of the room. Aang pushed the tables of artifacts to the side of the room warily, an unhappy look on his face.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked.

"Yes. It is," Zuko replied tersely. He shook out his hand, flexing his fingers, but before he could begin bending, Aang lunged forward. He grabbed Zuko's arm, pulling it away from the pile of clothes.

"But what if the Chief hears?"

"You think the firebenders whose holy firebending master we offended by not firebending are going to be mad that I'm _firebending_?"

Aang furrowed his brow as he tried to think of a comeback and his grip slackened just enough for Zuko to pull free.

Teeth bared, Zuko sent a jet of flame toward his old, soiled clothes. Burning them with _relish_.

Heat sizzled off the clothes as the moisture popped off of them. Aang took a step back from the fire, crossing his arms protectively across his bare chest, but Zuko stayed closer to bask the heat. Sun Warrior garb was a bit drafty, he could admit, but that was actually welcome after all the time they'd spent sweltering on the ship. The pants were loose fitting and cut just under the knee, while a long sash hung down in front. His chest was left bare – as was Aang's – but for the wire collar that ringed his neck and covered his shoulders. The fit of the clothes was distinctly unfamiliar, while at the same time reminding Zuko strangely of his own Fire Nation armor. The high, choking collar was certainly the same.

Zuko shook off the feeling, taking pity to look down at Aang's anxious expression. He put on a comforting smile; Aang just seemed more disturbed by it. Zuko had really hoped people would stop making that face at his smile when his scar was healed.

"Look," he said, putting his hand on Aang's shoulder. "No one is charging in here to yell at us. It's fine. Besides, the dragon already saved our lives once. I don't think she'd do that and then turn around to execute us."

It was weird, but Zuko actually believed his words. Optimism didn't come naturally to him anymore, but he'd understood the look in the dragon's eyes when she tested them with fire, even when she rejected their offering. She was offended, but hardly murderous.

Aang didn't seem terribly encouraged, however.

"I don't know, Zuko. He said they were going to punish us."

"Well, if it comes to that, we're the Avatar and the Fire Prince. We can take them."

The clothes pile smoldered between them. A few embers were visible still among the ashes. Aang dispiritedly fanned one with his airbending, feeding it so the ember burned brighter before blowing it out entirely. Zuko frowned, watching him.

"What's wrong? I thought you were the happy, cheerful one. We have real _dragons_ out there," Zuko said, gesturing emphatically. He thought the dragons were pretty awesome, personally. "And you don't even care!"

Aang dropped to a crouch, arms crossed as he stared broodily at the ashes.

"The dragon destroyed our ship."

"So? If we don't make the rendezvous, Katara and Sokka will come looking for us on Appa."

"My staff was on the ship," Aang explained. His voice was flat as he angled a glower up at Zuko. "My antique staff that I've had for a _hundred years_ that's _all_ I have left of my culture – since, you know, my clothes got fried too! And now it's gone forever. All because you wanted to come to this stupid island where we're about to get eaten by a dragon!"

"I _said_ I don't think she's going to eat us! And I wasn't the one who wanted to come out here. If you would just trust me, I could teach you firebending, and then we wouldn't have needed to leave Hakoda's ship at all!"

"Leave Katara, you mean. She's the only one of us you really like!"

"That's not true!" Zuko shouted back. "I like Sokka and Toph!"

Aang's mouth pressed into a firm line.

"But not me," he said.

"That's not – You're _different_. I just don't think of you the way I think of them. You're the Avatar."

"Yeah," Aang said. He looked like he'd just been slapped, jaw tensing and gaze turned to the floor. "I'm the Avatar."

Zuko settled in a wary silence, watching the other boy. He didn't know how to respond to the hurt, the resentment, in Aang's voice. To be the Avatar was to shoulder the greatest burden of responsibility there was, and he knew Aang hardly flinched from that. It meant that Aang was as alone as he was powerful, and while Zuko could see – in a sideways sort of way – how that might weigh on the boy, he didn't fully understand it. He'd sought the restoration of his own throne for so many years. He still hoped to be worthy of it, after they found a way to make Uncle the Fire Lord.

He was still working his mind around a response when the guards entered again – more of them this time, all female, expressions schooled into deliberate indifference. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Zuko crossed his arms across his bare chest.

Behind the guards, the Chief entered. His expression was grim and set, although a lackey at his side grinned with morbid cheer.

"Oh, you are going to get it," the lackey said. The Chief's turned his head fractionally, and the man backed up, looking down at the silent chastisement.

The Chief raised his arms, intoning, "The masters have reached their judgment. You will face them, and should they find you worthy, you will complete the ritual you disrupted."

Aang and Zuko shared a look, before Aang hesitantly raised a hand.

"Uh. Are you talking about the mating ritual again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jin's art for this chaper: http://jin-fenghuang.deviantart.com/art/What-am-I-covered-in-253422004


	6. Chapter 6

  


Aang shifted awkwardly as he knelt on the flagstones in the Sun Warrior temple. It was high in the ruins of the old city. A large stone _chedi_ rose to a pinnacle nearby and in the distance he could see the twin spires of the mountains.

The stone was smooth with wear, warmed by the tropical heat and also the dragon's fire. Scorch marks, many of which had been made in the past few minutes, blotted out the marbling of the floor, leaving only soot and a vague feeling of impending doom behind. Aang startled as "his" dragon – the blue one – snorted again, jetting a small gout of flame toward the floor. Steeling himself, he bent lower, pressing his nose against the blackened stone.

He could feel the dragon's breath ghost across his neck. He swallowed deeply against the sensation, ignoring every instinct that told him to fly far, far away.

Finally, the dragon withdrew. Aang could hear murmuring from the Sun Warriors. Only about half sounded displeased. He really didn't know what to do with that.

Cautiously, he peeked up from his kowtow.

The dragon glared forcefully at him from several paces, body coiled into a relaxed, yet somehow challenging posture. To Aang's right, the red dragon nuzzled Zuko.

Oh, _come on_! Aang groaned.

Moving slowly, Aang drew himself to his feet, his eyes locked with his dragon the entire time. He had to assume he'd been found worthy – since, you know, still alive and all. Or possibly he just wasn't worthy of being eaten. The second one actually sounded better, since Aang didn't want to be involved in _any_ kind of dragon-and-firebending ceremony at the moment, particularly not one for mating.

The dragon snorted and Aang startled back a step. Lips pulling wide over the dragon's sharp teeth, Aang could swear it was laughing at him.

And he could hear the Sun Warriors _actually_ laughing behind him – or that one guy, anyway.

Aang stood up straighter, letting his anger from before come back to him. Okay, so this dragon wasn't the one who wrecked their ship and broke his staff, but he was standing in Aang's way. He needed to learn firebending and get out of here and save the world, so he wasn't going to let something stupid like a dragon laughing at him stop him.

Glowering back at the dragon, Aang stepped confidently up to the animal. He raised his hand, not entirely sure what he was going to do, and in return the dragon dipped its head.

Huh.

"The great masters Ran and Shao have accepted their riders," intoned the Chief from behind them. Aang drew his gaze away from the dragon to where the Chief stood, arms up raised. The Sun Warriors behind him knelt in respect. "Life flows from the heavens to the oceans and settles on the land before it can be sparked anew. Ran and Shao follow the ancient cycle; the Avatar and the Fire Prince shall guide them, and be judged."

"Wait," Aang asked, raising his hand slightly. "That _wasn't_ the judgment?"

The Chief raised his eyebrows.

"No," he said simply.

From across the temple square, Zuko looked up from his communion with his dragon to shake his head in disappointment. Well fine then, Aang thought, scowling.

Soon enough, Zuko was clambering up onto the back of the red dragon and that's when the full force of the Chief's words hit him.

"Riders?" he asked in horror.

"Indeed," the Chief said. He didn't have to sound so amused all the time. It was really getting to Aang. The large man helped to boost Aang up onto the dragon's back, soothing away the shivers and bucks that signaled the dragon's displeasure. It didn't seem that he had been _accepted_ so much as _not eaten_ ; something clenched deep inside him at the thought. He'd never been afraid of flying before, and disorientation as much as anger seized him as he recognized the fear for what it was. The Chief noticed. "I had thought an Air Nomad would take easily to this."

"Thanks," Aang gritted out. Because really, he needed that.

The Chief backed away, turning to the giant furnace set into the temple wall. He held out his hands and the flames snapped into his control, becoming ordered and unflickering. He dimmed them, lowering the fire until it was little more than a yellow wisp among the coals. And then he knelt.

The dragon shuddered beneath Aang's legs as it inhaled. He grasped for purchased, pulling on its horns, and in a rushing, terrifying moment the dragon expelled a gigantic jet of orange flame over the Chief's head. From not far away, Zuko's dragon did the same. With trust and unwavering confidence Aang could hardly believe, the Chief rose, his hands pulling flames from the dragons' fire. Moving smoothly with ceremonial grace, he sent those same flames back into the furnace.

Aang's grip on the dragon went lax as he watched, stunned. He gathered himself together just enough to look over to Zuko; the other boy seemed more than intrigued. He had a look on his face just on the verge of revelation, of great understanding. Which was good, Aang recognized in the small part of him that was not jealous or terrified. Maybe with a moment more to process, that part could have grown.

Unfortunately, his dragon flapped his great wings, rising into the air with nauseating, rippling movements.

"Whoa!"

Aang wheeled his arms, struggling to keep his balance, before flattening himself down onto the dragon's head, hands holding fast to his horns. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to breath evenly through the disorienting, awful motion of flight. Appa totally had one up on this guy, that's all Aang knew.

The dragon ascended in great, slithering circles, climbing higher and higher into the sky. Aang wanted to look – he could feel the cooler air gusting past his cheeks and ruffling the fuzz he was growing out on his head – but he didn't even dare. Finally, the dragon's flight eased, sinuous tail whips replaced with the unpleasant, but predictable wing flaps.

Aang cracked an eye open.

The ocean lay out before him, jeweled blue twinkling in the high sun. At least that was familiar. Carefully, he pulled himself upright, sitting back into the dragon riding position that he knew from riding Fang. Somehow it had been a lot easier in the Spirit World.

It was at that moment that the dragon decided to dive, straight down. Aang gave a hoarse shout, feeling himself lift up from the dragon's back. Looking to the side, he saw Zuko's dragon also diving – although she was moving more slowly and smoothly, he thought sourly. It was like Zuko was actually… guiding her.

Right. Aang bit his lip, eyes going to his hands where they lay on the horns and to the very rapidly approaching ocean below. He hadn't been judged worthy yet, so that meant he still had something to do. He needed to learn from the master, and maybe it needed to learn from him. The dragon had already taught him a lesson about the air – mostly that flying wasn't always fun – and now it looked like it was his turn to teach something about water.

And not crashing into it.

"Um, hey there, Mr Dragon Sir. I think maybe we should pull up now," he said, pulling on the horns.

The dragon growled and smoke washed back over Aang. He coughed, blowing out a gust of air to dissipate it.

"No, really," Aang continued. He put his back into it, bracing his foot on a horn as he pulled. "I really don't think you want to do this. Think of your family! You have a mate and an egg – or you will! If you don't eat them, I don't know if…"

The dragon jerked his head abruptly, unseating Aang so he held only to the dragon's horn, legs dangling in the wind as they flew straight down. The water was so close now. Aang braced himself, taking a deep breath as they hit.

Water rushing in around them, making Aang's ears pop. He gritted his teeth against the pain of the sudden impact, exhaling with a rush to create a bubble of air around them. His dragon struggled beneath him, trying to throw him off once more, but this time Aang clenched his legs tightly around the animal. He pressed a hand to its flank, a silent command, and then lifted his hands up, streaming the water to create a tunnel around them.

The dragon calmed and for a long moment they swam, Aang's heart racing in time to the dragon's quickened pace through the water. He looked up and saw a mirror image above the surface of the water, Zuko's dragon flying just on the other side.

Giddily, he took a break from his waterbending just long enough to wave to Zuko – who, surprisingly, waved back. He might have even smiled.

Zuko's dragon began to ascend once more. Aang craned his neck, watching it go, and then with gentle nudges from his knees, he urged his own dragon up. To his surprise, it responded. They burst from the surface of the water and Aang pushed the bubble surrounding them out to collapse in shimmering sheets of water. Much of it fell directly onto Zuko and his dragon; both reared up to glower at Aang.

He grinned. This was definitely more like it.

As if to emphasize Aang's feelings, his dragon flicked its tail, spraying more water at the other two. Water dripped down Zuko's face. He wiped it away with a determined expression and pulled back on his dragon's horns. The dragon slowed, circling above Aang and then settling to fly behind them.

Oh, no.

Aang turned in surprise, just in time to see Zuko and his dragon both sent a jet of fire over his head. He ducked down reflexively, flattening onto his dragon, who grunted in displeasure. Tentatively, he drew himself up – which the dragon seemed to like even less.

"Come on, work with me!" Aang begged, reaching out to grasp the dragon's horns once more. The dragon shook him off, forcing him to cling harder just to stay atop him. Aang exhaled deeply, throwing an angry look over his shoulder. Why did Zuko always have to mess things up? Well, Aang wasn't going to do it this time. The dragon tilted his body, banking sideways to avoid another fireblast – at Aang's command, he realized suddenly.

"Oh," he blurted out. His eyes widened as he looked down at the dragon's head. Its eyes were half lidded, content even as it swam and slithered through the air, avoiding the fire. It liked this. And it liked Aang himself a lot better now that he wasn't freaking out. He patted the dragon's head, asking softly, "So, I've just got to be confident?"

He could totally do that. A grin lit his face, and soon they were soaring into the clouds above the island. Balancing on the dragon, he stood to bend the clouds into his hands. He pushed them back, directing them into a thick fog in Zuko's path which quickly burned away. Aang gathered the wind rushing past him into his hands, swirling them to produce an airscooter ball, and then he pushed it back. It whirled in the sky, creating an eddy beneath the wing of Zuko's dragon, and she faltered. Distracted, Zuko put his mind to righting the dragon, and Aang pushed ahead past him to land on the mountain top of their destination.

"Yes!" he called, punching the air. He'd won. Or something.

Actually, he wasn't really sure what he'd just done. His dragon heaved beneath him, smoke and flickers of flame coming from his great snout as he breathed. His claws dug into the mountainside, crushing rocks and scoring jagged gashes into its side as he scrambled up the peak. His head darted from one side to the other, and Aang realized he was looking for his mate. He seemed concerned. Aang felt a pang of worry.

Slowly, gracefully, the red dragon appeared from the mists. She flapped the clouds aside with sharp, precise movements of her wings, to land on the other peak. She cocked her head to the side, eyeing the blue dragon. She kinda looked coy somehow.

Wow, he suddenly got the feeling that those two needed a room and that he didn't want to be in it.

Aang started awkwardly considering the options for how to dismount – he could probably manage to get down the mountain with airbending, since it was pretty steep – when his dragon once more launched into the air. He had even less consideration for his rider than before. He flew directly at the red dragon, and the two met in mid air, clashing with their claws as they flew circles around each other.

The other dragon became a blur of red as Aang struggled to stay on top his dragon. The wind battered at him and, bracing his legs against the dragon's sides, he lifted his hands free of the horns to channel the air away, streamlining the flight. Squinting, he tried to make out what Zuko was doing.

He didn't see him.

The red dragon jerked into another dive as the blue dragon flew above him, and Aang's eyes caught on a figure in Sun Warrior red, tumbling through the air.

Without another thought, he leapt from the dragon's back, breaking the air in front of him as he dove down, trying to reach Zuko as quickly as possible. The other boy flattened himself out – giving Aang time, he realized. Reaching out a hand, Aang snagged the curled toe of the other boy's boot and then his ankle. Zuko twisted in his grasp, fumbling to grab onto Aang and free his hands. As quick as he did, Aang airbent down as much force as he could.

His cushion saved them, but did not spare them a rough tumble down the remaining stairs.

"Oof!" Aang gasped as Zuko landed directly on his middle. He laid his head back on the stone, gasping for breath as he stared up at the still fighting dragons that circled between the mountains. Zuko drew himself up and off Aang just long enough to collapse beside him.

"That was really…." Zuko started.

"Yeah."

Zuko met Aang's eyes for a long moment, then stood, dusting himself off. He offered a bow.

"Thank you."

Aang inclined his head and mimicked the Fire Nation style bow, pressing his fist to his flat palm. He still wasn't sure he understood the other boy – that he ever would – but they were sharing something spectacular here. It was hard not to find a more even keel in the sight of it.

Although, at the same time, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to watch.

"Uh, are they done yet?" Aang asked, screwing his eyes shut and averting his face from the dragons above.

There was a moment of silence from Zuko and then a heaved sigh as the other boy ventured a look.

"Oh," he said. He tugged on Aang's arm. "You have to see this."

" _Really_?"

Aang slowly cracked an eye open, trying to look without actually looking, before he realized there wasn't anything to look at. Well, there was. The red dragon and the blue dragon had take up poses on the bridge between the two mountains, eyes half lidded and great curls of smoke escaping from their mouths as they waited.

"They want us to do something," Zuko said. He started impulsively up the stairs, shouting back to Aang, "Come on!"

Aang wanted to cheat, going up the rather extensive stairs that led to the platform, but he'd learned his lesson. Bending during a ritual involving the other elements was one thing. Bending to get ahead and run up the stairs faster in front of the firebending masters he'd already offended with waterbending… well, that sounded like a risk he didn't need to take.

Zuko was panting at the top when Aang arrived, having ascended at a more cautious and sedate pace than he ever would if there weren't dragons at the top.

"So what do you think we need to do?" Aang asked. He leaned toward the other boy and away from the wide yellow eyes of the blue dragon. It did in fact seem very judgmental, at the moment.

"What was it the Chief said?" Zuko scrunched his face as he tried to remember. "Life comes from the sky to the sea and then to the land."

"'To be sparked anew'," Aang said with him.

Zuko drew himself up. The midday sun gleamed above him, shining off the Sun Warrior necklace he wore in a great halo, lighting his determined face. An excited smile pulled at his lips. It made Zuko look altogether younger and warmer – not at all like the distant and angry prince who had fought against Aang. He looked just a bit like Kuzon, for a moment. It was nice to see him in his element.

It was nice to think that fire wasn't all bad.

"I know what to do," Zuko told him. "You have to trust me."

Aang started and he shrugged uncomfortably, backing away just a bit. Yeah, he knew that was the point of the whole exercise. In fact, it was the point of this whole trip, and while it wasn't like he hated Zuko so much he'd let him fall to his death, that 'trust' thing was still a work in progress.

"I don't know about this…"

"Aang. They want us to _firebend_. Can you do that?"

"Well, I –"

"So you have to trust me." 

Aang gulped and nodded. He didn't like this – but he didn't have to like this. He just had to survive it, and hey, he'd survived Zuko throwing fire at his head plenty already.

Zuko backed off several paces. He bowed to the blue dragon behind Aang and then half-turned, bowing to the red dragon. He closed his eyes, calming himself, appearing to draw strength from his deep breaths. His eyes opened and he moved – almost gently – pushing out a handful of fire in Aang's direction.

Aang mirrored him, biting his lip as he reminded himself of the lesson he'd learned in the air. _Confidence_.

He caught the fire in one hand and looked up in surprise to Zuko, who offered him a quick nod of approval.

"Keep it alive," Zuko admonished quickly.

Grinning, Aang fed the flame, closing his eyes as he felt it breath in and out with him. With Zuko at his back, he turned to the blue dragon and offered it his fire. The dragon snorted, gust of wind almost blowing the tiny flame out and Aang gritted his teeth back against his first instinct – he wouldn't shield the fire with wind. Instead, he pushed his chi into the fire, strengthening it against the gust. The dragon tilted his head, breathing out to the side, and just as quickly Aang had to rein in the fire.

The dragon met his eyes and then leapt down from the platform. The red dragon did the same in front of Zuko, and the two boys stumbled together.

"I thought he liked me!" Aang protested.

"It's another lesson," Zuko said, although there was little confidence in his voice. More like fervent hope.

And as one, the dragons breathed fire around them. Colors swirled, shimmering with heat and just beyond their reach. Aang watched with wide eyes as his own flame was torn from his grasp, as if a leaf, and flung into the whirlwind of fire.

When it calmed, Zuko turned to him, looking shaken as if from a deep revelation.

"I understand now," he said. "For so long, I thought fire was rage and pain. That's what father always taught. But fire is life."

"Like the sun," Aang added.

Zuko nodded, plowing ahead with rambling words.

"But it's not just that. Fire consumes – it _needs_ you. Your strength and your confidence, and if you don't have either it will eat you alive. Fire has a price."

That was sounding less nice. Aang raised a finger, trying to think of a protest. Master Jeong Jeong had said similar things, and he was pretty crazy.

"Everything has a price," Zuko continued. "Everything worthwhile. You have to fight for it and you have to _give_ something for it."

Aang tried to process that into something more positive.

"So what you're saying is… fire is symbiotic. It needs you, just like you need it," he concluded.

Of all the bending forms, it had always seemed weird that an airbender would learn fire last. Fire was versatile like water, while the forms were acrobatic like airbending. The intermediate step of learning earthbending had never seemed entirely necessary to Aang, and not just because he hated moving stupid stubborn rocks. But firebending wasn't a manipulation like the other forms. It was a creation, and before he understood himself, all his strengths and weaknesses and all his changeability, he could never give of himself to make fire.

Aang putting out hand, patting the blue dragon on the leg.

"Thanks, Mr Dragon Sir," he said. "I learned a lot."

Zuko coughed politely, shaking his head.

"Aang… that's not… I don't think you should touch him there."

Aang looked again and backed away in horror. Right. Not a leg.

Down the staircase, the Sun Warriors had gathered. The Chief was tapping his foot impatiently. Aang jerked his head toward the man, asking Zuko, "Why don't we get out of here?"


	7. Chapter 7

High atop the central temple, sacred peaks eerily outlined by the rising moon, Zuko leaned against the wall next to the furnace of the First Flame. Arms crossed, he watched the bright bursts of fire thrown so effortless and casually by firebenders performing the Dancing Dragon, led by the Chief of the Sun Warriors himself. The entire settlement had crowded onto the ancient building to celebrate the completion of the dragons' mating ritual, the renewal of fire itself. The revelry had begun just after they descended from the mountains and continued late into the night. The sun extinguished, firebenders drew instead fully on their chi and the dim, distant power of the stars. Nonetheless the Sun Warriors put on an impressive show of stylized dances and duels, putting even the Fire Festival in the palace to shame.

Aang had eagerly joined in, of course, taking his first true firebending lesson from the Chief while Zuko hung back to watch. He had too much to think about to join the fun – not that he liked fun, anyway.

The exultation of the dragon flight was beginning to wear off, although not of the revelation he had experienced. He knew, deep in his gut and with breathtaking certainty, what it was to firebend. What he had been doing wrong all these years. He could feel the power at his fingertips – not violent or sickening. Not begging for release.

Comfortably banked. Set for the moment, but warm with embers that glowed and faded with his breath.

He wanted it. He couldn't lie to himself about that. But he didn't know who he would be if he let go of his anger and guilt.

Prince Zuko, healed of his scar, stripped of his title, smiling at the Avatar's side. _Who the hell was that_?

He grimaced to himself. It wasn't like in Ba Sing Se. He wouldn't be giving up on his destiny for the sake of his own happiness – which for once seemed like a real possibility, instead of a mocking phantasm of the past. Maybe he could confront his destiny _and_ be happy.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that it didn't work that way. He couldn't face his father without anger, see his uncle again without guilt. He couldn't touch the scar on Katara's side…

"There you are!" Aang called. Zuko jerked, looking at him in annoyance. Aang grinned broadly, swiping sweat off his forehead as he gestured back to the party. "You've got to get out there. The firebending is _amazing_ and the food's not bad either! There's this drink you have to try. I don't even know how to describe it."

Zuko narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"It's not alcoholic, is it?"

Katara would kill him.

"No! Uh… well, I don't know. But it's made from this bean and it's spicy and it's really, really good, Zuko. You'd like it."

"Uh huh."

A cheer went up from the crowd and Aang turned. He grabbed at Zuko's arm, trying to haul him away from the wall.

"Come on, I think they're about to start fire limbo!"

Zuko shook him off – for once, without a glare.

"I don't do fire limbo." Not on his ship when Uncle organized it and most definitely not now. "Besides, Aang, I was wondering if we could talk."

Aang's eyes took on a serious, wary look. There was so much still unresolved between them and it was clear that he worried Zuko was about to violate their tentative truce.

"Sure, okay," he agreed, nevertheless.

Zuko nodded toward the steep stairs of the temple and together they walked away from the bright firelight of the celebration. They settled on the edge of the temple, sitting in the dark blue night. It felt a relief to have his face cloaked in darkness again and Zuko looked out over the jungle as he thought.

"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Aang asked. From the corner of Zuko's eye, he could see Aang picking nervously at his loose, Sun Warrior trousers, legs folded beneath him.

"I need to know if you can forgive me," Zuko said.

The temple was high above the jungle and Zuko could see out past the edges of the island, to where the ocean moved silently in the moonlight. The constellations registered with him, automatic after all these years, and his mind quietly reoriented himself. A part of him had already known – he was looking toward home.

"Sure, I forgive you," Aang said. "We both said a lot of stupid stuff earlier. I know you didn't really mean it."

Zuko turned, locking eyes with him.

"I meant all of it," he snapped. "That's not what I was asking."

Aang straightened, an indignant look on his face.

"You don't always have to do that, you know! I was trying to let bygones be bygones."

"Well, that's not what I want. I don't want you to say you forgive me to be nice. I want you to _actually_ forgive me."

"For what?" Aang asked irritably. "Aside from being so charming all the time."

Zuko rolled his eyes. Like he hadn't heard that one before. Before Aang and Sokka, there had been Lieutenant Jee, and even Mai could be surprisingly caustic when she wasn't blushing.

"No, really. I want to know," Aang said. His voice was calmer, although not really forgiving. "What is it that you think you did wrong? Trying to capture me?"

"No," Zuko said quickly. He winced as soon as he heard himself – voice rough and defensive, and entirely about the wrong thing. Yeah, that came out badly. Aang didn't seem particularly surprised, though, or angry.  Zuko took a moment to think.

He wasn't sure he could take that back.

He still didn't even know what he thought about the war. Plans to end it seemed farfetched and not just because they were so outmatched. There were paintings still in the palace, of ladies in long, beautiful dresses and men in equally elaborate robes. Zuko hadn't once seen that growing up. Men and women wore their armor, their military uniforms. Useless courtiers were dismissed, playmates were chosen on fighting skill and marriage consideration was only given to the powerful, the dangerous.

Earlier, on the boat, he'd as much as confessed that he didn't believe in Aang or his cause. It was hard to even think of the war in those terms, either as unjust or as something that might end. He had seen the suffering in the Earth Kingdom, but even then a nagging voice told him that the Fire Nation would right that. Their duty in the world was to protect other countries, do for them what they clearly couldn't do for themselves, and he still struggled with the idea that maybe the other countries didn't want their help at all.

It was the Avatar the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes turned to instead. Aang was a good kid. He was smart and kind and far more cheerful than should be legal. But the Avatar was something else entirely. At the North Pole, Zuko had personally seen the Avatar wield terrible, devastating power. Worse, he had wielded it with arrogance and so little control that it was hard to see the good in it, particular not when turned against Zuko's own country.

"I never believed in the war," Zuko said after a long silence. "I didn't have to.  It just _was_. Father promised he would conquer the entire world and that it would one day be mine to rule – before he banished me. Before he hated me."

"You once told me I wouldn't understand about fathers," Aang said. He shrugged a little when Zuko looked at him. "And I don't, not really. But that's why you can't be sorry, isn't it?"

Zuko clenched his jaw, nodding fractionally. As much as he could tell himself he hated his father, he still didn't regret it. If there was ever a chance his father would forgive him…

But there wasn't. Di

"Would you do it again?" Aang asked. He looked serious, lips pursed and gray eyes flickering with firelight. "If you knew your father would take you back, would you do it?"

Zuko hunched his shoulders, turning away a bit. That wasn't Aang's real question. He wasn't asking if Zuko had truly changed, if he was somehow over the need for his father's approval. He was asking for a choice, right here and right now. A promise, because Aang knew Zuko's honor would never allow him to break it.

He thought of Katara, bloody beneath his hands as he burned her to save her life. He thought of her cool hand against his face, giving him a new destiny.

"No," he said in a low rasp. "I wouldn't."

He couldn't do that to her.

Aang nodded slowly, satisfied. He sat back, leaning his hands on the stone of the temple, looking out across the island as he asked lightly, "So what was it you wanted forgiveness for?"

A part of Zuko knotted up, trying to prevent him from saying it. He gritted his teeth against the feeling. He was trying to move on, to accept the price of fire.

"For Katara," he said, more force than he originally intended behind the words. He looked over to Aang, taking in his surprise and forestalled the obvious protest forming on his lips. "Not for being with her. For burning her."

Aang deflated a bit.

"Oh."

For all that Zuko wasn't good with feelings, he wasn't oblivious. "Giving up" Katara had in no way meant that Aang stopped loving her. It meant he accepted his role as the Avatar and the stakes of the battle. Zuko could respect that, although he wasn't really interested in giving up Katara any time soon himself.

Aang shrugged a little awkwardly, reaching up to rub his palm over his head before abruptly remembering he wasn't bald.

"I don't know… isn't that something that should be between you and her?" Aang asked. "I mean, I know I burned her once, but that doesn't make me in charge of whether or not it's okay. And I _don't_ hold it against you. You saved her life."

Zuko shook his head, feeling frustrated. He turned, fixing Aang with a serious look.

"It is between us. But it's also between you and me. I need you, Avatar Aang. You need to tell me…" he trailed off, feeling ridiculous. Why was he even asking Aang for advice here? He was just a kid.

But light dawned in Aang's eyes, and he sat up straighter.

"… to forgive yourself," Aang finished for him.

"Normally, I'd ask my ancestors, but they're all evil," Zuko said. He tried for levity, but it fell flat.

Zuko had memories of the spirit house in the palace gardens. It was tucked away into a small, private pavilion near the lotus pond where even servants were forbidden to enter. When his mother lived in the palace, she had been the one to care for the spirit house, oiling the varnished wood and clearing away old offerings. He remembered her boosting him up to light the incense on his own for the first time, praying for strength and wisdom from Great Grandfather.

After she'd left, he had little reason to think Great Grandfather cared enough to help, but Zuko had taken up her duties nonetheless. He remember lighting votive after votive, staring into Great Grandfather's piercing eyes as he asked for her to come home.

It was almost grimly satisfying to think that no one cared for the shrines and spirit houses now. Azula had never bothered and Zuko had only seen his father pray there once, shortly before Lu Ten's death.

He curled a fist up tight, holding back that memory as he took deep breath and forced himself to look to Aang. He was the Avatar. It was his place in the world to give spiritual guidance and if Zuko was going to do this, if he was giving up so much of his heritage, then he had nowhere else to turn.

"Zuko, you did what you had to," Aang said. "You can't beat yourself up for doing the right thing, even if it hurt someone. Remember what you were saying to me earlier? Fighting like I do is arrogant. Well, if it's arrogant to think I'll win, it's even more arrogant for you to think there's always something more you could do. That you could be perfect somehow.

"Sometimes bad stuff just happens. It's our responsibility to do what we can, but burdening ourselves with guilt for what _can't_ be done is simple arrogance, not virtue."

He looked sincere as ever, calm expression undercut only a bit by how his nervous fingers worried at the hem of his knee-length trousers. It wasn't that he didn't believe the words he was saying; he was just new at this. Zuko pushed down his pride, trying to take Aang's words in stride. He'd asked for this. It didn't matter that he was new at it too.

"The monks always taught me that to assume responsibility for someone else is to destroy them and then yourself. To assume responsibility for yourself is to become fully aware of your own weakness, and strength can only come from that awareness." Aang trailed off for a moment, deep in thought. His hands had fallen to the stone again, giving up on pulling out the hem of his pants. He nodded to himself before refocusing on Zuko. "You can't take responsibility for what I did, or what Azula did, or even what Katara did. You _shouldn't_."

Zuko nodded at his words. It was one thing to hear that he could forgive himself and another thing entirely to actually do it, but he felt some of the tension ease along his back. He felt that same power of fire, pulsing with his heart. There was a calm moment where he closed his eyes – and reached out to take it. His guilt and anger didn't disappear, but they faded to the background. Part of him, but not part of his power.

When he opened his eyes, Aang was practically beaming at him.

"Wow, that was pretty good."

Zuko inclined his head stiffly in acknowledgement.

"You're a wise kid," he said. "Thanks."

"I'm really glad I could help. It gave me a chance to think, too," Aang said. "Hey! Maybe that worked so well because I am one of your ancestors."

Zuko frowned across at him.

"… no. That's probably not it."

"No, I bet it is!" Aang blinked at him, calming from his excitement. "Wait, don't you know? Roku said he's your great grandfather! So we're related! Sort of."

"I'm fairly sure Fire Lord Sozin was my great grandfather."

"Yeah, but so was Roku. I mean, you had four great grandfathers. Roku can totally be one of them."

Zuko fixed Aang with a glower. He didn't seem to get how royal families work.

"I have _two_ great grandfathers. But I guess Roku could be the other one."

Aang squinted at him for a long moment before he just shrugged. He rolled to his feet, holding out a hand to Zuko. He ignored it, standing on his own and dusting himself off as he did. Well, his trousers anyway. There wasn't much hope for getting the soot and sweat of his bare chest until he had the chance to wash.

"Come on. You need to have some fun for once," Aang said. He tugged on Zuko's arm, pulling him back toward the party and Zuko sighed. Maybe fun could be part of the new Zuko.

***

Something nudged against Aang's side. Something pointy and toe-like. Aang groaned blearily, blinking up into the morning light. The Chief was haloed by sunlight, leaning over him with a demanding, fierce expression. He toed Aang in the side again.

"You will wake up, Avatar," he commanded.

"I will!" Aang replied. "I mean, I am! What is it?"

"Ominous signs on the horizon," the Chief intoned. "And a boat. It probably followed you here!"

Aang jerked himself upright, mind spinning. The Fire Nation had followed them here? But how? Monkeyfeathers, this was bad news. If the Fire Nation knew they were sailing undercover, then Hakoda's ship was in serious danger!

He was still on the top of the temple, having curled up next to the great sacred fire after the celebration, Zuko at his back. He cast a look over to the older boy, who was now waking up as well, a drawn and grim look already on his face.

"What kind of boat?" Zuko asked.

"Does it matter?" the Chief asked. "We are a hidden society. We live to protect the masters, Ran and Shao, and we will not be compromised!"

Aang shot Zuko a look. While they hadn't exactly gotten a warm welcome, he figured that was more to do with ruining a sacred ritual than anything else. Plus, there was that whole research station thing. He looked at the Chief in confusion.

"Unless it's archaeologists."

"Well, yes. Or students. We have quite a prestigious scholarship program. But that is not the point!" The Chief turned dramatically and guards fell into line behind him. "Come, I will show you!"

Aang groaned again, pointedly, as he followed the Chief down the many, many stairs of the temple. Man, what was it with the Sun Warriors and stairs? The Air Nomads had treated stairs the same way they treated gravity; with a knowing, winking grin that laughed at them for the joke they were. Actually walking up and down them was proving annoyingly strenuous.

Zuko did it without complaint, though. Aang cast him a sidelong look as they walked down into the jungle. He was starting to think they were a bit like Tui and La – if the comparison made any sense at all without fish or the moon. But they did push and pull at each other, and as tumultuous as that could be, Aang was starting to see the upside to that. Zuko was too serious about everything, but sometimes Aang needed that. He was still learning how to deal with actually being the Avatar, rather than merely fighting a war, and Aang could already sense that Zuko's serious-mindedness would be a great help in that. But at the same time, Zuko was ridiculously humorless. He needed to lighten up. Not just because it drove Aang crazy– it was clearly damaging to his own chi and bending. Left to his own devices, Zuko might well fall again into sullenness and self-loathing, twisting his firebending all out of shape again. Aang was determined not to let that happen to him.

Aang felt startled by the fierceness of his feelings on that subject, but their discussion the night before had had quite an impact on him. They weren't quite friends, but he and Zuko were certainly more than allies now. He felt responsible for Zuko, for his spirit, just as he knew Zuko felt responsible for Aang as a student.

After a long and sweaty slog through the jungle in the humid mid-morning heat, they came to the beachhead. Wreckage from their own capsized boat littered the beach. While the boat was likely at the bottom of the sea, seeding a new reef, quite a lot of their supplies had washed ashore. There were fragments of pots and wooden cargo boxes, as well as wet lumps of paper. Their maps. Aang furrowed his brow, tipping up on his toes a bit as he tried to make out exactly what else had washed up. And there! Right there, smack in the middle of the wooden debris was _the_ book. With glee, he dashed over, breeze rippling in his wake.

"Zuko!" he crowed triumphantly, holding up "Apple-pears to Zebra-bears" and even the Zuko couldn't hide his smile.

"Guess this trip wasn't a complete loss," he said, tone as neutral as he could get it, but he wasn't fooling Aang at all. He was happy. Zuko lifted his chin, looking over Aang's shoulder. "For either of us."

Confused, Aang turned. He shaded his eyes with the book, searching through the scattered wreckage. There was a lot of wood. Sticks and twigs from the nearby trees, drift wood that looked too old to be theirs, and shattered crates – but amid that boring, stupid old wood, there was also something much more valuable. Aang lit up as his eyes caught on a particular, slender piece. His glider. He ran over and picked it up, sandbending some of the clingier bits of the beach off of it. Happily, he ran his fingers over the familiar whorls and knots of the resin-varnished wood.

"I know that staff means a lot to you," Zuko said quietly. He stepped to Aang's side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you've got it back."

Aang nodded. He held his breath, backing away for a quick moment. He was glad to have it, that one Air Nomad relic that was still _his_ , but he still needed to test it. Snapping his wrist, he unfurled the glider.

Great tears rent the red wing apart, edges still wet, and several of the spokes the wing was drawn across had splintered under the force of the waves.

He exhaled, letting go of his hope and his disappointment both.

Zuko gave him an awkward, apologetic look; Aang shook his head, snapping the glider closed again. It felt good to have it back in his hand.

"It's not lost," he assured Zuko. "Broken isn't the same as lost."

And perhaps because Zuko was so accustomed to General Iroh's aphorisms, he nodded solemnly, a contemplative look in his eyes. Aang hadn't entirely meant a double meaning there, but maybe he was a lot wiser than he thought. He brightened at the idea. He was finally getting the hang of the spiritual leader stuff.

"You may needs that weapon, Avatar," the Sun Warrior Chief intoned. Aang startled and whipped around to look at him. He'd almost forgotten the guy was even there. The Chief raised his hand, pointing out to the horizon. "I do not think our visitors are here to do research."

Aang followed his line of vision, squinting into the reflective sea. The boat was far closer than it'd been when he and Zuko first sighted it just days before, but it was unmistakably the same. The pirates. Or, well, so he'd thought at the time.

He angled his head, speaking from the side of his mouth. Very sneaky, he thought.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's a Mark Two," Zuko said in a tight, controlled voice. "They were decommissioned ten years ago. Never went into civilian use as merchant vessels. There is no way that is either Fire Navy _or_ merchants."

"Boat enthusiasts?" Zuko leveled a glower at him and Aang sealed his lips shut, not at all smiling. Nope.

"What do you want us to do?" Zuko asked of the Chief.

The Sun Warrior Chief rubbed his large hand across his chin, miraculously not smudging any of his face paint.

"The secret of the dragons cannot leave this island. Not as long as the Fire Nation still makes war against them and the world. Your uncle, he has helped us to keep this secret for many years now. Are you prepared to do the same?" the Chief asked. Zuko's eyes went wide at the mention of General Iroh and he nodded without another thought. "Good. You must sink that ship."

" _What_?" Aang blurted. He waved the staff between Zuko and the Chief, trying to break through the intent staring match between them. "Maybe you didn't hear me. I mean _what_?!"

"They are pirates. They cannot trespass in these sacred waters."

"Yeah, but killing them? That's kinda a big leap."

"He's right," Zuko said. Aang looked at him in surprise; Zuko looked as unsettled as Aang felt, face ashen even under his usual pallor. "We can just find a way to make them leave."

Aang blinked rapidly. Zuko meant _he_ was right, not the Chief. Wow.

"Very well. But you must make certain they will have no reason to return. You must leave as well. The Avatar and the Fire Prince are not easily missed and soon enough others will follow your trail here," the Chief said.

"I understand," Zuko said. He gave a half bow, keeping his eyes to the ground as he humbly said, "It has been an honor learning from the masters."

"I'm very grateful for their wisdom," Aang said, following suit. "And glad they didn't eat us."

The Chief raised his eyebrows at them.

"There is yet time for that. How do you think you are going home?"

A great snort sounded. Right in the water, curled around a particularly large, half submerged piece of wreckage with an expression Aang could only describe as smug, was the red dragon. Zuko lit up immediately, going to stroke her snout.


	8. Chapter 8

Ran swam with determination. Zuko could feel the fluid pull of muscles shifting under his hands, but he looked away from her and up to the ceiling of shining, translucent water that Aang formed around them. He could see mirror images of her red scales, Aang's face serene with concentration, and his own nervous scowl as he watched the ocean flow above them. There was a thick, uncertain feeling that stuck in his throat. It was his plan, swimming to the ship with Aang waterbending to give them a bubble of air, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He didn't like any of his plan, actually.

It wasn't that he wanted to drown the pirates, nor that he disapproved of sneaking around. Especially not the second one.

But in all times past, the weight of failure had fallen on him alone. He didn't have a problem jumping off of conning towers or swimming the arctic sea when he was the only one facing the consequences. Now, if they failed it was the masters who would suffer. His family and his nation had done enough harm to the dragons already. They had already destroyed their culture in anger and selfishness.

Zuko didn't know what he would do if he failed his people again, exposing the secret home of the dragons to pirates or worse, the Fire Navy itself.

Ran turned her head, eyeing him over her shoulder, and he reached out to lay his hand across her forehead. She leaned into the touch and Zuko swallowed. This was the responsibility of a prince, and he _would_ shoulder it.

"Are we there yet?" Aang called. He sounded a little winded from the effort of maintaining their bubble, which wasn't at all comforting to hear.

"We're close enough," Zuko replied without turning.

He could see the hull of the ship just ahead, the small rudder fixed on a course that would take them to the island, and the slow churning of the propeller creating bubbles in the water. He nudged Ran's side gently with his knee and she rose. Zuko heard Aang's relieved sigh as they slowly breached the surface. He relaxed his hold on the water. It rippled out from Ran, splashing against the side of the pirate ship as they neared.

"So, um, what now?" Aang asked.

One of the nice things about commanding soldiers was that they hadn't asked questions. Then again, maybe if they had and Zuko had explained, they wouldn't have failed quite so often. But this really wasn't the time to be nostalgic for his ship, his crew, or trying to capture Aang.

"Now we sneak on board, change their course, and destroy any charts that would lead them back here," Zuko said tersely.

How exactly they were going to do any of that was uncomfortably up in the air. Zuko was accustomed to plans that, well, sucked. But normally that was because he hadn't thought through the consequences of either success _or_ failure. This plan fell into a different, yet still terrible, gray area. The pirate ship was a stolen Mark Two Fire Navy ship, the generation of small vessel right before Zuko's own ship. The layout was similar, from what he'd heard, but he'd never been aboard one. If they were going to get on board quietly and move with any measure of stealth, they'd better hope the layout was as close as he'd heard. The only alternative to stealth was a full out assault – which they'd already dismissed back on the beach. Despite that, a part of Zuko itched for a head to head confrontation. He _really_ did not like pirates.

Aang seemed pretty much fine with the big question mark hanging over their plan. Zuko had the distinct sense that this was exactly how Aang usually operated. It'd worked out so far. Sort of.

Zuko squared his shoulders, standing carefully on Ran's back as she maneuvered closer to the port side of the ship. He needed to be above the water line when he cut into the metal, or the whole thing of _not_ murdering everyone wouldn't happen.  Frowning, he knelt down again, running his hand along Ran's head as he whispered his instructions to her. He wasn't altogether sure how much she understood of what he said, but it was enough. She arched out of the water, lifting Zuko and Aang high enough to reach the small portholes in the ship's side. They weren't glass. Instead, they were yet more smooth metal, hinged to swing outward – more of a safety measure than a true window, used more often to vent exhaust than to give seasick sailors a view.

One of them was open at the moment and though no smoke billowed out, the air smelled acrid and thick. This was close to the engine room.

He peered in quickly, trying to get his bearings for the ship. It should be a storage room, but there was the possibility that it had been converted to crew quarters, which would make it pretty much the worst room to enter through. Luckily, all he saw inside were barrels and crates. Not even a sailor keeping watch against pilfering, or pilfering food himself.

"It's clear," Zuko said.

Aang put his hands on Zuko's shoulder, trying to lever himself up to look in. Ran accommodatingly rose, boosting him just enough.

"Great!" he enthused. He seized the edges of the porthole, looking ready to squeeze in. "I'll go first."

Zuko rolled his eyes, grabbing Aang around the waist to haul him back. He wobbled a bit on Ran's back and she snorted in annoyance. A puff of mist surrounded them as Zuko put Aang down. The younger boy winced visibly and knelt down to pat at her side apologetically.

"It's not big enough," Zuko told Aang. In times past, he might have gestured to the roundness of Aang's head, but favoring their newfound understanding of each other, he instead gestured to the broadness of his own shoulders. Aang got the picture, nodding with chagrin, brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to do. He craned his neck, seeming to think of climbing up the side of the ship. Zuko had a different plan. Raising two fingers, he leaned in close to the hull, commanding Aang in an aside, "Cover your eyes."

Zuko breathed in deeply, summoning up all the will to bend. He could feel the sun beating down on his uncovered neck, evaporating the seaspray that dashed against Ran and the ship alike, running down his naked back and soaking the Sun Warrior trousers he still wore. Narrowing his eyes, he breathed out and at the same time, lit a spark at the end of his fingers. Not yellow flame, warm with life, but searing white, unforgivably hot. It was edged in blue as Zuko concentrated on his one driving motive: _burn_.

"Wow, when did you learn that?" Aang asked.

Zuko could feel him at his back, leaning over his shoulder to watch. The flame flickered and Zuko gritted his teeth. How much power – how much _anger_ – did Azula pour into her flames to keep them blue? The fire settled into white again, comfortably within Zuko's grasp and control. He held it to the side of the ship, watching steel melt in thick drips and rivulets as he carved a line across the bow. He circled the porthole, wide enough to fit him and Aang through, high enough above the waterline that they wouldn't scuttle themselves. And then, breath heaving from the exertion, he threw himself forward to punch fire at the unstable, weakened hull.

The large circle Zuko had carved out crashed inward with the horrible screeching of abused metal. Mindful of the still hot metal outside, Zuko nodded to Aang before diving through. He tumbled onto the deck, far clear of the entrance he'd made, while Aang floated in with his typical grace.

Aang looked around the room, taking in the damage with a disconcerted expression.

"I thought we were being sneaky," he said.

"It's sneakier than running across the deck hoping no one notices," Zuko replied. "But we need to move fast. Someone might have heard that."

"You think?" Aang asked, disbelief edging into sarcasm. He frowned, tossing a look back to the gaping hole in the ship's side. Ran was peering in curiously. "Is that safe?"

"I hope so," Zuko said in a low voice. He pushed at Aang's shoulder. "Come on."

Aang twirled his staff, bringing it into defensive position.

"Which way?"

Zuko grimaced, looking around to take better measure of the room. The crates were food but the barrels, as it turned out, were not water. Baijiu. He wrinkled his nose at the thought, although it might turn out to be a boon in their favor. If they were lucky, the crew had been imbibing, leaving them a drunk or hung-over adversary that would be easy to deal with. If not… well, it was always nice to have a good incendiary around. Otherwise, the storeroom was unremarkable. It was on the starboard side of the ship, with both the rumble of the engine and its heat seeping up through the floor. The noise wasn't enough to drown out Zuko and Aang's words, nor had probably hidden the sound of their entrance, but it gave Zuko a way of orienting himself. They were above the engine room, although not directly above. If it were Zuko's ship, the crew quarters would be in the aftcastle, under the conning tower, safely out of the way from the fumes of the engine room. Below decks they had the rhino stables – presumably not something the pirates kept – yet more storerooms for food and fuel, and a small galley that used the heat of the engine to power their stoves. If they were careful, they might be able to avoid any pirates at all until they were up the tower, where the captain and pilot would be on duty regardless.

"Up," he said. "Hug the shadows, move quietly, and follow me. Hopefully, we won't have to introduce ourselves to the crew."

"And if we do?" Aang's eyes were wide and curious, as they always were, but the matter was more serious than that. Zuko remembered their argument on the steam ship just as well as Aang did. Zuko stood by what he had said. To fight with the assumption that you would win, to pull punches, was dishonorable. But not pulling punches didn't mean killing and it didn't mean fighting with uncontrolled fury. He saw that now.

"Then we do what we have to do. I would have thought you – master of four elements and the Avatar state – would have the power and control to do this _right_."

A small smile pulled the corner of Aang's mouth up and he nodded. Zuko had to fight smiling in return. It was weirdly nice to agree on something.

"Not a master yet," Aang said. His ears were a bit red with an embarrassed, yet proud, blush. He didn't really do humble well.

And it was true enough that Aang was hardly a master, but Zuko was sick of the banter. He moved stealthily to the interior door, willing himself back into the habit despite the bright light of day streaming in behind him and his conspicuous lack of a mask. The porthole of the interior door showed a more dimly lit corridor beyond and nothing but a hall of closed doors. Easing it open, Zuko slipped through and Aang was quick to follow.

The corridor was the same plated and bolted metal Zuko remembered well from his own ship and, more recently, from his unwilling stint on Bei Hu's ship. He listened for the engine to get his bearings. The hall would go down to the bow of the ship. They wanted to follow the hall to the back of the ship and then up, instead. Footfalls soft on the metal floor, he and Aang carefully made their way toward the theoretical stern, changing sides to avoid each new and the hazards of them suddenly opening. The lighting in the halls, Zuko noticed, came only through the portholes. They were none too confident about keeping open flames, which was a comforting thought. They didn't have any firebenders.

"So far so good," Aang breathed out as they came to a stairwell. Zuko shot him a quelling look. This was not the time to get chatty.

The stairwell would be a dangerous place for them. Close quarters for a fight, too close to flee or let an adversary flee, and since it ran the breadth of the decks below, the aftcastle, and the conning tower, any noise that carried would be heard by everyone. But there was nothing for it.

"I need you to defend while we go up," Zuko said, leaning down to hush his voice. "Stay a few paces behind me."

Aang got the idea, turning around to go up the stairs backward, staff held at the ready while Zuko crept up the stairs with his hands held defensively before him. He wished he'd remembered to bring his swords on this trip.

The staircase didn't spiral, but instead went up one wall with several flat platforms between the zigzagging flights of stairs. One for the deck, one for the crew quarters and then, finally, one for the control tower. They came to the upper landing, relieved to have made it this far. Seriously, these pirates showed a complete lack of professionalism. The door was open a crack and Zuko could hear voices from inside, lazily joking with each other. He waited a beat, trying to mark out the different voices, get an idea of how many pirates were inside.

"It's one guy!" Aang said, eyes going wide with surprise. He clapped a hand over his mouth just as quickly as Zuko glared at him, but the pirate inside didn't seem to have heard them. Or much of anything. He'd moved from talking to himself to singing to himself.

He didn't have a bad voice, really.

"Drunk," Zuko concluded and while Aang looked a little worried at that pronouncement, it certainly made their job easier.

"Remember what you said about being quiet?" Aang asked. There was a cunning, mischievous look in his eyes. "I don't think we really need to do that."

Zuko knew from experience with his crew that the line between drunk and hungover could be pretty fine, particularly on a morning like today. More importantly, a drunk had already lost most of his equilibrium, much though he would protest that he was fighting fit.

With a quick nod to Aang to confirm their unspoken plan, Zuko kicked the door in. The pirate – a sallow-faced man with shaggy hair and the mismatched clothes typical of his vocation – jumped up from the chair he'd been leaning back in. The chair clattered to the floor and the pirate wobbled just a little. Before the pirate could get any words out, Aang shut the door behind himself, bending the air in the room into a cyclone that stole the pirate's surprised shout away. The debris of a careless crew littered the floor of the room. Papers, jugs, bowls and a large metal box of something or other. Aang focused in on the box, bending the wind to pick it up and throw it against the wall, hitting halfway between the door and the large window. The metal reverberated under the impact, ringing out loudly.

Zuko took the opportunity to strike, grabbing the disorientated man as he stumbled forward. It didn't take much to pin him down, nor to get the pirate into a choke hold. When the man fell limp in his grasp, Zuko let go, turning the man over and pressing a hand over his heart to check for a beat. He swallowed back against his own nervous, feeling unsteady until he could confirm that the man was still alive.

"Is he…?" Aang asked.

"He's fine," Zuko said, hearing a crack in his own voice. He tried to shake it off. They had a lot more pirates to get through before they were out of there. He couldn't get worked up over every single one. He exhaled, and fixed Aang with a commanding look. He pointed to the wind-strewn papers on the floor. "Get the maps. We need to put them on the right course."

"Aye aye!" Aang said, scrambling to get all the papers in order. They seemed, however, not to be maps at all. Instead, the papers were a smattering of notes, pages torn from books, and music to whatever song the pirate had been singing. Aang went to the box, cracked open by its collision with the wall. Inside, there was a treasure trove of maps – ocean currents, shipping lanes, and even Fire Nation patrols. Hakoda could certainly benefit from them. Aang sorted through them, finding the most recent map with the pirates' current heading marked out on it. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated and a small fire sprung forth from the palm of his hand. He looked up at Zuko, asking, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Burn it."

For all his former wariness of fire, Aang's expression was one of calm determination as he put the map to the flame. Aang's breath held steady as the fire crept up from the corner of the paper, slowly consuming the map at an unnaturally steady and controlled pace. Zuko allowed himself a small smile at the sight. Aang had a long way to go yet in his firebending training – Zuko had just as far, testing the possibilities newly revealed to him – but he already had a solid foundation. When Aang finished, he looked up at Zuko hopefully and Zuko immediately schooled his expression into one of indifference. It wasn't _that_ impressive.

Aang gathered up the remaining maps from the box, spreading them around the dash above the steering column, map of the currents on top. Zuko leaned over it, frown pulling his eyebrows down as he looked for the most advantageous, least dangerous path to put the pirates on. Trying to protect their worthless lives was a lot of effort.

"How about this one?" Aang asked, tracing over a major current. It was the Southeast Trade Wind, path winding down from the Northern Territory of the Fire Nation to hug the coast of the Earth Kingdom. The end point, of course, was the South Pole, but in between it hit multiple small islands and, tellingly, the Southern Air Temple. "That's the one we'd ride back when I visited my friend Kuzon."

His friend from the Fire Nation. His friend from one hundred years ago.

Zuko dismissed the feeling of disorientation he had at the thought.

"It's too dangerous," he said.

He pointed to the wide swath of empty ocean between their current position and even the nearest Fire Nation controlled island. Too many days without proper steering, too many chances of deadly storms. Much as he hated pirates, Zuko had spent too long as a sailor to condemn anyone to that. However, there might just be a better possibility. The map was big, covering the entire world, and so it showed lesser currents only as fine traceries on the paper. That didn't mean they were weak, though. The swirls of eddies and strong currents working between the northern islands of the Fire Nation were infamous and a large part of why they'd adopted steam engines so quickly and so universally.

Aang's eyes followed Zuko's hands on the map, quickly coming to the same conclusion Zuko had.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Aang asked.

Zuko took hold of the steering wheel, already changing their course.

"I think it's time we sent these pirates where they belong."

The Boiling Rock.

***

Holding the steering wheel steady, Aang cast a look over his shoulder to where the pirate lay unconscious on the deck. Zuko too was on the deck, lying on his side, tucked up under the dashboard as he worked. He was welding the steering column in place with a bit of metal they'd broken off from the wheel itself. After it was fixed in place, they planned to cut the steering column, giving the pirates the appearance of control while the fixed rudder took them on a direct course to the Boiling Rock. Hopefully they wouldn't notice until it was too late.

Nervousness prickled up Aang's spine. They needed to hurry, but this was difficult and tiring work for Zuko. Just standing there _waiting_ frustrated Aang to no end. He wanted to help! Or to fight or just get out of here already, but there wasn't anything he could do. There was just no way to take a shortcut and speed the welding up. There wasn't even anyone to fight; thankfully, no alarm had sounded yet. The pirate Zuko knocked out early had roused once before slumping back into unconsciousness, presumably helped along by the baijiu he'd been drinking. The man's chest rose and fell with his breath, marginally easing Aang's too alert mind. He seemed to be snoring, actually.

The hiss of Zuko's flame intensified and then, just as suddenly, went completely dead. The wheel turned in Aang's hands, moving too quickly and too easily now that it was unattached to the rudder. Aang grinned, leaning down to offer a hand to Zuko.

"Good work!" he said. Zuko took the hand up gratefully, a little unsteady on his feet as he stood. Aang felt a pang of concern. "Are you okay?"

Zuko looked flushed, hair sweaty as it hung in his eyes. But he didn't look weakened by the exertion. Instead, he looked energized.

"No, I'm fine. We need to get going. I want to get below decks and do a second weld. Make sure that rudder doesn't move."

Aang blinked rapidly. That sounded really unnecessary and entirely too risky. It was nice that Zuko was thinking ahead and was up to the job, but, well, this wasn't the time to get overconfident. They could just go right now. Aang looked longingly out the window. If the stupid thing opened, they'd be able to jump out, find Ran and just ride her into the sunset. Midday sun. Whatever.

It was enough to make Aang wonder if Zuko wanted them to get caught. There'd been a look on his face when he plotted the course to the Boiling Rock, a look of wistfulness followed by a grimace that Aang remembered from their talk about Iroh. The General probably wasn't even on the Boiling Rock. But maybe he was. Maybe if they stayed, let themselves get captured, they'd find Iroh and be able to break him out. But that was, aside from being an incredible long shot, an even stupider plan than their current one.

"Okay, but how about we don't? We should just get out of here, Zuko."

"Getting out means going down," Zuko said. He was glaring again, although Aang didn't hold that against Zuko. He just seemed to forget not to glare, really. "And while we're down there…"

Aang sighed. "We can make more welds. I get it."

On the other hand, more time on the ship meant maybe they'd be able to find shirts. Somehow, miraculously, Aang had managed not to get sunburned during their long dragonflight yesterday. He wasn't convinced that'd be the case today, riding Ran on the open ocean to find Hakoda's ship. And Zuko… well. He claimed he didn't burn, but Aang was just getting tired of all the damn birds.

With that in mind, Aang led the way out. He sidled around the snoozing pirate, staff held at the ready. Zuko followed, with his back to Aang and his hands brought briefly out of bending position to close the door behind them. Aang gulped, looking down. A lot of stairs, not a lot of room, and a direct entrance to the crew quarters.

A low horn called out behind them. Aang snapped around, staring back at the sealed door that muffled the alert as it came up through the communications pipe.

"Guess someone found that little hole you made," Aang joked.

"Guess so," Zuko replied grimly.

"Well, it's enough that we tried. Change of plans, eh, buddy?"

Zuko's eyes were narrowed, face set and determined as usual.

"They have no idea we're up here," he said. "If they found the hole, then they think we're down _below_ raiding their supplies. They'll leave the engine room entirely unguarded."

Aang didn't really agree with his logic there.

"And if the guy back there just woke up and sent out the alarm?"

Zuko grabbed the railing of the staircase, vaulting over it to jump down to the next flight of stairs. He smirked as he looked back up at Aang.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"There aren't a lot you aren't," Aang grumbled.

But he followed suit, jumping to land softly next to Zuko. They took two more flights of stairs that way, quietly as they could, falling quickly into a rhythm with each other. Aang felt vividly reminded of his time as Zhao's prisoner and Zuko's rescue of him in the guise of the Blue Spirit. But, much as he didn't like this whole situation, it was far more comfortable than then. For one, Zuko didn't have any swords to hold to Aang's throat and for two, Aang knew he wouldn't do that even if he had the chance.

That was kinda nice.

They reached the base of the conning tower and the network of doors exiting in every direction. The one to the crew quarters was fully open and the hallway beyond was completely quiet. Not exactly a good sign, when Aang thought about it. The door to go down held back sounds of machinery and distinctly human noise. And the one to the side, the one to the deck and the wide blue sky, was open a tantalizing crack. Just enough to give Aang a glimpse before Zuko tugged him forward.

The door burst open under Zuko's hand, knocking him backwards into Aang. Recovering, they looked up into the face of the looming figure stepping up into the stairwell.

The pirate was stout and strong looking. Unlike the unfortunate pirate they'd left upstairs, he did not wear cobbled together armor – or any armor at all. He wore the loose green on green hanfu common across the Earth Kingdom, his black hair partially shaved and tied back in a queue. Next to him stood a man in worn, weather beaten gray. Aang had the feeling that it had once been blue and the sight of a seal-bone necklace around the man's neck all but confirmed that he'd at least ventured up north, if nothing else. Rounding out the three, imposing pirates that faced Aang and Zuko in the tight, uncomfortably crowded stairwell was a man with glinting brown eyes and a Fire Nation style sword.

If not for the fact that they were mean and deadly looking pirates, Aang would have been cheered by the obvious show of international harmony.

The man in the center frowned at them. He looked scanned them up and down, taking in the maps they'd both tucked into their waistbands – lacking the sleeves Aang normally would have stuff them into – and then fixing on their faces.

"Aren't you…?" he began.

Aang wished wholeheartedly that there had been shirts upstairs. He felt very exposed at the moment, particularly around the tattoo area. Thankfully, the pirate's gaze was currently aimed more at Zuko than him, which was odd since Aang sort of thought Zuko looked unremarkable without his scar. Of course, he didn't really know what Fire Lord Ozai looked like. Maybe the looks ran in the family.

"Pirates!" Zuko cut in frantically. "Yes! We're pirates. Stealing from you. Fellow pirates."

Aang resisted the urge to smack his hand against his forehead. Zuko was a genuinely terrible liar. Of course, _that_ didn't run in the family.

The pirate captain was tapping his forefinger against his chin, expression thoughtful as he looked at them. Two of his crew had joined them in the stairwell, making it very cramped. They shifted on their feet, looking impatient for battle as their captain dithered.

"No, that's not it. You look familiar."

"I've just got one of those faces," Zuko deadpanned.

Really, not helping.

"You probably remember us from all the pirating we've done. We're really infamous." The captain didn't seem to buy it, so Aang decided to go for the hard sell. " _Arrrr_."

The pirate next to the captain – lanky, sallow and bearing more tattoos than Aang had seen outside of his home temple – twitched at the word. He gave a nearly incoherent cry, launching himself at them.

"I hate being stereotyped!"

Zuko grappled with the man, while the other two attacked, forcing Aang out onto the deck. They squinted in the harsh light of day, sunlight bouncing off the gleaming metal deck, while Aang brought his staff to bear. He was hesitant to airbend when they didn't seem to know who he was, but without earth or water he could use, he didn't have many alternatives. Although…

With a mental shrug, he struck out with the staff itself, sweeping the legs out from under his opponent. The staff trembled at the impact, but didn't crack, and Aang figured that was good enough. He twirled it around in a wide arc, forcing the captain back into the doorway. Aang could easily see several more pirates behind him, just waiting for the chance to join the fight. As long as Aang held his ground, they'd be trapped.

Of course, that wasn't what they wanted at all. They couldn't afford to be locked in a stalemate and as much as Aang didn't want to hurt anyone, he kind of needed to hurt them _a little_. Just enough to knock them out and prevent them from undoing Zuko's hard work fixing their rudder.

"How's it going?" Aang asked Zuko. His eyes flicked to the side, where Zuko had wrestled the pirate to the ground.

"Fine."

It was more of a grunt than an answer. Despite himself, Aang felt his foot start to tap impatiently on the deck. The captain looked like he thought this was an opportunity and Aang struck out at him to disabuse him of that idea. Not yet, buddy.

"Can you hurry it up? There's something I want to try."

Zuko nodded and punched the pirate one last, definitive time. The man released Zuko, slumping woozily down onto the deck. Zuko stood, dusting himself off. Signaling for Zuko to back off, Aang retreated onto the deck. The captain gave him a briefly, confused look before surging forward. Aang stayed out of reach and Zuko matched pace.

The pirates just kept coming, one after another coming up from below. They clearly thought, with their superior numbers, that they didn't even need to bother attacking. The captain himself threw out a hand, telling them to keep the line, although two of the pirates snarled and dodged forward anyway. Just what Aang had been hoping for.

He nudged Zuko in the side and, wordlessly, they went into action. Zuko grimly kicked out a broad arc of fire, enough to make the pirates jump back, before pressing his palm to the deck to heat the swathe of metal between them. Aang ran to the edge of the ship, peering over only briefly to make sure Ran was a safe distance away before bending up a great waterspout to dump directly onto the superheated deck. Steam hissed off the deck, enveloping the entire ship in a hot, dense cloud.

Zuko smirked, catching Aang's eye.

"Time to go?"

Oh yeah. Well past time.

Aang leaned his weight onto his back foot pulling at the water beneath the boat with a wide circle of his arms. He pressed his palms flat, smoothing the water as he froze it into the shape of a slide. He bowed to Zuko, gesturing  overboard.

"Royalty first."

Zuko shot a look back toward the fog entrapped pirates.

"I guess it's a step up from 'hotman'," he grumbled. He planted his hands on the rail of the deck and neatly jumped down onto the slide, feet keeping contact as he all but surfed down to Ran.

Aang followed on his heels, jumping directly with a softened swirl of wind guiding him gently to the dragon. As soon as he was safely on her back, he struck out with his staff, shattering the slide. Shards of ice fell into the ocean, beating against the side of the metal ship with crystal clinks. Aang tilted his head to the side as he watched them, an idea forming in his mind. Okay, so they hadn't gotten below decks to make the second weld, and maybe it wouldn't hold perfectly, but it was worth a shot.

"Aang, what are you –?" Zuko started.

Aang tuned him out, closing his eyes. He pushed aside his worries – that ever nagging dread that he was falling behind, that he was losing the war; his fear for his friends; his fear for the future, for what he was becoming as the Avatar. Above those concerns was the freedom of detachment, the flow of his former lives and their wisdom, coursing above him almost as if a river. He dipped into it. His eyes snapped open and in the corner of his vision, he could see the glow of his tattoos.

With a breath, he pulled at the ocean, forming a great swell underneath the ship. He could see the rudder and propeller, with a strange curiosity born of a hundred lives that had seen so many things, but never a thing such as this. His will firm, he froze the rudder in place and then, flicking his hand, sent the wave outward with no more effort than he would a drop of water on his fingertip.

Zuko was looking at him with an expression Aang couldn't place – not like this – so he came back, letting the power and crowded identity of the Avatar State go. Oh. It was worry. Zuko was worried for him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm great," Aang said. He leaned back on Ran, happy to feel her sun-warmed scales beneath his hands. He angled a look to Zuko. "You know, I'm sick of the ocean."

Zuko chuckled.

"I know just what you mean."

He slid forward to Ran's head, hands stroking her as he gently guided her up. She rose from the water, flapping her wings as she held steady. Aang stood and pulled the water from the humid air around them into tight bundles, building a cloud around them. Zuko nudged Ran with his legs and then they were up like a shot; it was all Aang could do to keep their cloud-cover together, but he wouldn't have slowed down for anything.

 


End file.
